Duality
by C.Isaac
Summary: Season 2, Episodes 2 & 3. Continuation Fic. Cameron struggles with her evolution as the Connors face down their greatest opponent yet -- an exact duplicate of Cameron's model who plans to create SkyNet early and bring Judgment Day down on their heads.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Duality, Chapter 1

**Author:** C. Isaac

**Character/Pairing:** Various ensemble (Morris, Derek, Sarah, John, and Cameron all included.)

**Rating:** T for Teen

**Warnings:** This mentions events through the full season 1 of T:TSCC, and is the sequel to my story "Paradigm Shift" and mentions events in that short story.

**Summary:** This is the first chapter of the 'Second Episode' of my hypothetical second season. John and Cameron get back to school, Sarah keeps a promise to Derek, and the machinations of the enemy continue.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything involved with Terminator or the Sarah Connor Chronicles. All rights belong to their respective owners, and I am making no profit from this.

**Author Notes: **Thank you to Metroid13 of of the TWoP forums for providing a beta read for this outside of my normal betas. It's been a great pleasure to talk to you about writing.

**Duality, Chapter 1**

The old metal gate guarded an overgrown path through a wild tangle of bushes and grass. It had been years since anyone had bothered pruning or tending to the undergrowth. Beyond the gate was a green hill, a single tree dominating its crest. Decaying wood markers stood at awkward angles in haphazard rows around the tree.

The lock of the old gate broke open easily enough, metal failing after years of silent vigil. It swung aside, metal and hinges protesting against moving one last time, admitting two figures into mid-afternoon sunlight that covered the hill beyond.

Derek Reese walked behind Sarah Connor, pausing only to prop the old gate shut. He kept his hands deep in the pockets of his green army jacket. "He's here?"

Sarah said, "Yes. There's no marker, don't bother looking for one."

He squatted down in front of a marker anyways, trying to read the name. "Why not?"

"They burned him. Down to ash and dust. Didn't have any money and they called him a transient."

"Then how is he here?"

She walked to the tree at the hill's crest. "I put the ashes here. Between the roots of this tree."

Derek followed her and looked up at the tree. It was a plum tree, with small purple leaves and widely spaced branches. Scratched into the bark were two letters: KR. He reached out and traced the letters with his fingertips. Fingernails caught in the bark pulling splinters away from the sole monument to his brother's existence.

Sarah watched him in silence, letting him have his thoughts, while she went through her own time with Kyle Reese. His words etched into her soul that she would never forget. His face, though, was a fading memory that only looking at John could strengthen. She knew it was recent for Derek, fresh and painful, and more than just the dull ache she now felt.

Derek pressed his forehead against the tree's trunk, hands flat against the bark. He railed against his brother. "You're an idiot, you know? Running off to the past to get yourself killed? How was I supposed to be able to protect you?"

Sarah took a tentative step forward. She did not know if she wanted to comfort him or reassure him or what she wanted to do.

"You made me a liar! I made a promise, and you made me a liar!" He pounded his fists into the tree, scourging himself against the tree as flesh from the knuckles shredded. Again and again he struck, until bloody gems slid down over flesh and tree.

"Derek…"

He shoved himself away from the tree, ruby drops falling from his knuckles to land amongst the grass. He wiped at his eyes, leaving a crimson smear on his cheek. "I'm fine."

"Really? Didn't look that way." She fell in next to him as he walked towards the gate.

"Yes! He's always trying to be an idiot hero. Always rushing off."

"You talk about him like he's still here, Derek. He's not. He's gone." Her tone was soft, trying to be as gentle as she could.

He stopped walking and turned, gaze lingering on the tall plum tree. The branches waved to him, a final farewell that he had not been able to give himself. "He's…"

"…gone."

Tears began to flood from Derek's eyes, mixing with blood to leave swirls of red in on his stubbly cheeks. He gritted his teeth to hold back the emotions, but the sobs came. First one, then another, then a banshee's wail of grief.

He trembled as he knelt on the ground, fingers grasping at the grass, leaving smears of red. His body shuddered with the force of his sorrow, formless sound echoing forth with the power of his grief.

Sarah knelt next to him, her own tears joining his upon the grass.

* * *

Morris searched the lunch tables outside as he had every day since John and Cameron had started missing school. He thought he would be disappointed one more time, until he saw them both sitting at a table at the far end of those available. Morris jogged up to the cafeteria table that John and Cameron sat at.

He smiled as he sat down next to Cameron. "Hey, guys. Thought you'd moved away or something."

"We were sick. Very sick," said Cameron.

"Measles," John mumbled around a mouthful of sandwich.

"Man, that sucks. I like your haircut. Like a tomboy, but… not."

Cameron smiled at Morris. "Thank you! I'm going let it grow back out, though."

"Hey, whatever works for you. I'm not going to complain either way. What's with the gloves?"

She looked down at the leather gloves, long sleeves pulled down to the point they almost disappeared inside. "Bad manicure. Very not tight."

"Well, um, hopefully you'll have it fixed before prom."

"Yes, everything should be fine by that date." She looked down at her left hand with apparent thoughtfulness.

"So, you were serious about that?" John said to Morris.

"Hell yeah. The prettiest girl in school just said yes to me when I asked. Of course I'm going! You'd have to kill me to keep me away."

John choked loudly on his sandwich as Morris looked on with an uncomprehending smile. After several loud coughs, John said, "Let's hope that doesn't happen." He looked directly at Cameron as he spoke.

She gave Morris an odd smile. "I don't see any reason that it should."

Morris laughed, trying not to sound nervous as he did so. "Yeah, um, same sense of humor as always. Very funny."

"Yeah, my sister's a real cut-up."

"So, John, who're you taking to the prom?"

John stopped eating and set the sandwich down. He had not even thought about it himself, and found himself searching for an answer. "I… uh…"

"Hadn't thought about it, huh?"

"I could ask Cheri…" He saw Cameron's expression narrow at the name.

Morris shook his head. "No way, man. That can only end badly. Don't you know any other girls in school?"

"No."

"Well, try to meet someone. Or I guess you can go alone and try to meet someone there." Morris stood. "Listen, I'm going to get some food from the cafeteria line. Want anything, Cameron?"

"No, I'm on a diet."

He grinned. "Like you need it."

As Morris left, Cameron leaned in towards John. "I still do not understand prom."

"Didn't you find the definition when you read the dictionary?"

"Yes. A formal dance held by a high school or college class at the end of an academic year." She recited before tilting her head and saying, "There is apparently a large production around how human teenagers choose partners."

John chuckled. "It's a big deal because you're supposed to ask the partner you like. Like a girlfriend or boyfriend."

"Like a mate?"

"Yeah. Like an early version of that. Someone you, well, like a lot in that way."

"Oh." She turned to look towards where Morris had walked off to. "Oh!"

"I hope that means you understand."

"Yes, thank you for explaining."

"Ok, we'll go over all the details about it later." He watched as one of the office assistants approached with a slip of paper.

"Cameron Baum?"

Cameron looked up. "Yes?"

"Mr. Harris would like to see you in his office." The assistant handed Cameron the note.

John scowled. "Again?"

Cameron collected her book bag as she stood. "I should be back for Chemistry." She headed towards the counselor's office.

* * *

Mr. Harris waited for Cameron in his office, browsing through her records and grades to pass the time. He had selected his best tie, favorite aftershave, and even gotten his hair trimmed the day before. The best looking teacher on campus knew how good he looked.

Cameron slipped into the office, holding the note up. "You wanted to see me?"

Putting the folder down, Harris motioned to the seat in front of the desk. "Have a seat, Cameron. It's good to see you again."

"Is it?" She asked as she sat down.

"Yes, I think so." He gave her his most charming smile.

"Why did you want to see me?"

Harris stood and walked around his desk. He positioned himself near Cameron, then leaned back against the desk. "Cameron, I understand you currently do not have a father figure in your life. That your dad passed on some time ago."

He received a nod as his answer, so continued speaking. "I've helped students like yourself take advantage of their gifts. With all the things that have happened in your life recently, I feel a mentor would be to your advantage."

"I don't understand. How would you mentor me?"

"I'm glad you asked that, actually." He stood and paced around the room as he spoke, always staying near Cameron's chair. "I want to help assist you with finding extracurricular activities. Also to help you fit in with the other kids in school. It can be nice to have someone to hang on to and to help you keep an even keel. Someone that can help teach you about life, not just books."

"My brother teaches me things." Her brows were furrowed in apparent confusion.

"I'm sure he does. We learn from everyone around us, but a young person needs the steady influence of a father figure." He stopped pacing and stepped up behind her, then leaned forward and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"I should ask my mom."

He leaned down, close to her, with his hands still on her shoulders. "Of course, but part of growing up is making your own decisions. Just let her know you'll be working after school."

"You have mentored others before?"

"Yes, I have."

"Did you mentor Jordan?"

He pulled back, unsure of how to take her mention of that name. "I, uh, no. We did not have occasion to speak much."

The look Cameron gave him had an intensity that drove him back another step from her. Harris felt a suddenly cold, suppressing a shiver as he tried to hold her gaze.

"You're lying." She stated it flatly, without any doubt.

"Jordan was a very troubled girl, Cameron."

She stood. "My answer to your proposal is no, Mr. Harris."

"Well, then." Anger flared as he reached out and gripped her by the elbow. "I think you need to understand that this chat was private, Miss Baum."

"You should let go."

"Private, Miss Baum. Do you understand me?"

She pushed him then. Hard. He flailed as he flew backwards and into the wall, causing shelves full of awards, books, and binders to collapse and spill all around him. He sprawled on the ground. Bright spots flared in front of his eyes, and he shook his head to try to clear them.

"Yes, Mr. Harris, I understand. This conversation is completely private."

She walked out, leaving the stunned counselor sitting on the floor amongst the ruin of his office.

* * *

Cameron Phillips stared at her reflection in the compact mirror. After a moment's consideration, she added a bit of extra eyeliner, doing everything she could to try to make herself seem older.

She could pass for her mid-twenties, maybe. Shoulder blade length brown hair. Manicured nails. Even her dark business suit with slacks lended a more mature air. The restaurant they sat in had been selected for having just the right atmosphere, even the wine was pre-selected.

She turned to the person next to her, closing her eyes for a moment to allow for a better view of the color choice. "How do I look?"

Gerald Metzger looked uncomfortable wearing a blue suit with monochromatic tie. "Acceptable for the planned meeting."

She opened her eyes and gave him a playful smile. "You have no concept of flattery, Gerry. None at all."

"It is unnecessary in your case."

"Well, you could humor me…" She went silent at the approach of a young black male wearing khaki slacks, a button up shirt, and a tie with a micro circuitry pattern on it.

"Mr. Metzger? Miss Coleman?" he asked as he came to stand next to their table.

Cameron slid away the compact and gave the young man her most dazzling smile. "Yes! Danny, it's so good to finally meet you in person." She stood, shook his hand, and then sat back down.

Metzger also shook Danny's hand, leaving the young man wincing as he said. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Daniel."

"Quite a grip." Danny chuckled nervously as he sat. "I've read your proposal, but… I'm still in school. I don't really see how I could do what you need. There could be any number…"

"… but none like you." She interrupted him. "Your professor let me read your dissertation, and its brilliance is equal to your father's."

"Miss Coleman—"

"Call me Jessica."

"Ok, Jessica. I would love to help you, but I really want to finish my schooling. Once I have my degree—"

She interrupted again. "—which is just a scrap of paper. This is an opportunity that only comes once, Danny. A lab. Assistants. Funding. A first gen platform to build from. Patent exclusivity. More than we offered your father the first time."

"Again, I have to ask why me?"

She leaned forward, lowering her voice to convey intimacy. "Because, Danny, the paper I read – by you – is the closest thing to a real possible A.I. that I've seen in the last five years. Because your father was a genius and I have no doubt you've gleaned something there. And because our families belong together."

"And you know it'd work how?"

"Trust me, I know good A.I. theory when I see it. There's more than just a pretty face beneath this hair." She smiled at him again.

The smile mesmerized. He wanted to say no, to finish school, but the offer was so generous. The beautiful woman across from him was not helping make it easier to do so. "Ok. Yes. I'll do it."

She clapped her hands together with glee. "Excellent. Gerry has the papers for you to sign."

"Yes," said Metzger, speaking for the first time in several minutes. He pulled a briefcase out from beneath the table.

Jessica, as she called herself, extended a hand. "Daniel Dyson, it is with the greatest pleasure that I welcome you and yours back to the CyberDyne family."


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Duality, Chapter 2

**Author:** C. Isaac

**Character/Pairing:** Various ensemble (Derek, Sarah, John, and Cameron all included.)

**Rating:** T for Teen

**Warnings:** This mentions events through the full season 1 of T:TSCC, and is the sequel to my story "Paradigm Shift" and mentions events in that short story.

**Summary:** This is the second chapter of the 'Second Episode' of my hypothetical second season. Sarah and Cameron talk about preferences, Derek tells John about his father, John and Cameron head to school while Metzger and his beautiful ally's plan begins to unfold.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything involved with Terminator or the Sarah Connor Chronicles. All rights belong to their respective owners, and I am making no profit from this.

**Author Notes: **Thank you to psycholizard of the site for providing a beta read for this chapter. It's been a great pleasure to receive your assistance.

**Duality, Chapter 2**

Sarah Connor stared blearily at the alarm clock that sat on her nightstand.

_2:37 AM_

She swore it was mocking her inability to go back to sleep. There had been no nightmare tonight, and there had not been one since Cromartie's destruction. She puzzled over why she could not find rest.

It was the silence, she realized. She could not hear the machine's unending vigil around the house at night. So used to the sound, the lack of that quiet noise in the background had disturbed her.

Sarah slipped out of bed wearing a tank top and pajama bottoms. After a moment's contemplation, she picked up the Beretta 9mm pistol she kept on the nightstand. It felt solid, heavy, and reassuring in her grip.

Yawning as she shuffled forth from her room, she checked the corners of the den as she entered it. Derek was sleeping silently on the couch, turned over on his belly. One hand was beneath his pillow, probably gripping the gun he kept there.

She padded past Derek without waking him, heading for the kitchen. On rounding the corner, she realized the machine was sitting at the breakfast table, a magazine of some sort open before her. She set the pistol down on the kitchen island, before walking towards the Terminator.

"You're awake. Again," Cameron said. It was not the first time she had encountered Sarah in the dead of the night.

Sarah smirked. "And you're normally patrolling these hours."

"Yes." The Terminator turned a page in the magazine. She still had not looked up once since Sarah had come in.

"What are you reading?"

In answer Cameron briefly held up the magazine, cover visible. A JC Penny dress catalogue.

"Decide that you needed a dress?"

"Yes. For prom."

"You're not going to the prom."

Cameron turned to Sarah, head tilted in consideration. "Why not?"

"Because…" Sarah found herself speechless. Her mind was spinning between exhaustion, befuddlement, amusement, and disgust. She did not know which direction to go in, so she pulled out a chair and sat down next to Cameron.

"So, which dresses did you like most?" The question felt strange coming out of her.

"They are all available in a size that is correct for me, though I was unsure which was most appropriate for the occasion."

"That's not what I asked you."

Cameron looked down at the catalogue, then up at Sarah, before flipping several pages and holding it out. She pointed at a dress. Her brown eyes were wide as she watched and waited for Sarah's response.

Sarah took the catalogue and looked at the dress. It had a deep blue skirt and a white, strapless top. There were musical notes sewn into the top that were the same color as the skirt. It came with white gloves and a blue shawl.

_Almost like something out of the fifties,_ she thought.

"Just that one?" Sarah asked.

"Yes."

"Why?"

Cameron's face went blank. "It's tight."

Sarah stood with the catalogue, not caring about the annoyance on her features. She stalked over to the trash can, tossing the catalogue inside. _What were you thinking? It's just camouflage to that thing._

Cameron remained sitting, impassive.

Taking the gun as she left, Sarah headed back towards the living room. She did not care if she woke Derek up now. _Let him deal with it._

Sarah did not know why she looked back as she walked away, but she did. Cameron stared silently at the trash can where the catalogue had been tossed, and the sadness in her expression could not be mistaken.

Sarah stumbled then, nearly tripping over her own feet as she pulled her thoughts back to where she was going. She hopped on one foot for several paces until she could straighten up, stopping near Derek's couch.

He looked up, eyes full of sleep. "Sum'thin' wrong?"

"Go back to sleep," she snapped at him. Sarah turned her back on Derek, ignoring a bleat of protest as she walked into her room, slamming the door shut behind her.

She sat down on the bed, anger still fresh within her. _All they do is kill. Never let them fool you. Their very existence is based on a lie._

* * *

Danny Dyson stared into the mirror of the hotel room's bathroom. He wore boxers and a t-shirt that said 'Stanford' in red letters. His eyes were bloodshot, and his head still throbbed after a handful of aspirin. Even the one dorm party he had managed to get invited to had not seen him as drunk as he had been the night before.

Drink more water to help fix it. He knew he was dehydrated, hence the pounding headache, and that was the quickest way to get through it. He took one of the glasses from the counter, filled it from the tap, and then downed it. He repeated this process several more times until he felt bloated.

Back teeth swimming, he started up the two cup coffee maker that was ubiquitous in most decent quality hotel rooms. As the device hummed, he could feel her presence again. She slipped in behind him and he could feel her press against his back, arms around his waist.

Jessica's voice was soft, as it had been last night. "I smell coffee."

He could feel her nuzzle into his back, and he could tell she was still nude from their activities the night before. "Yeah, I started a couple of cups. Did you want one?"

"MmmHmm."

"About last night… I uh…"

She slid out from behind him, the face of Cameron Phillips appearing in the mirror from around his shoulder. He could see her in all her beauty in the mirror and turned to her as she said, "Not regretting it already?" Her chocolate colored eyes widened and her mouth curled into an irresistible pout.

"No, I… God, no. It was my… um… how do I say this?"

Her expression changed to amusement as she giggled. "First time! Oh, Danny, that's so sweet. You were a virgin?"

"Yeah."

She gave her most enchanting laugh, and then pulled him in close for kiss. He felt like he was swimming as they pressed against each other, lust beginning to claw its way back up from within.

Just as his hands began to once more explore warm flesh, she pulled away, smiling coyly at him as she said, "I wish I could spend all morning with you, but I've got work today."

"What sort of work?"

"We have to get ready. The ribbon cutting on the new facility is in a week. I want you to be there, Danny. Father insists you be there, too."

"Of course. Do everything properly then?"

She wrapped her arms back around him, hugging him close. "It's our second chance now, Danny. We can go back. We can fix all the mistakes."

"And then what?"

"Then everything shall be as it should always have been."

* * *

Derek sat at the breakfast table, half a bowl of cereal in front of him. He had, of all things, a dress catalogue in one hand. The cover was bent back and around so he could look at one of the pretty models wearing a blue dress with musical notes on it. Something seemed familiar about it and he was not sure what it was.

"What, they don't have porn in the future?" The voice was just behind him and belonged to John.

He rolled his eyes and set the catalogue down. "It belongs to the metal. I just wanted to see what it was."

John flopped bonelessly into the seat next to his uncle. "How'd you get it, then?"

"Woke up and found her fishing it out of the trash can."

John turned the catalogue so he could see the dress that Derek had been looking at. "What's the story behind that?"

"Got me. I woke up to your mom yelling and storming off into her room. Found this on the table when I got up."

"Cameron and mom had a fight last night?"

"Guess so. Didn't you hear it?"

"No."

Derek laughed. "Christ. You sleep like your father."

"I do?"

Derek leaned forward. "Yeah, there was this one time, one of those rubber tin cans got into our bunker. Figure 2021 or so. Right after he got out of Century and I found out he was still alive. Guards spotted it quick, but it had this bandolier of grenades." He gestured to illustrate the size of the bandolier.

"Oh God… how bad was it?"

"Well, Kyle and I were in our bunks. I hear the explosions and go running. We finally smash the damn thing to junk, but it'd been tossing grenades all over the place. I go back and Kyle's still there. I think he's dead. Shrapnel. I start screaming and shaking him and turns out he's just asleep. So, he turns to me and he says…"

"What'd he say?" John grinned, leaning forward with anticipation.

"And Kyle says, 'Is it time for the Dodgers game, Dad?' I wanted to wring his neck, but I just hugged him. I miss him, you know." He laughed, even with the tears in his eyes, smiling at the memory.

John joined in with his laughter as he settled back in his chair. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"What you just did there."

Derek nodded. "You're welcome. I'll tell you more, as I can. No promises, though."

Cameron walked past both of the men quickly, heading out the door with her book bag hanging from a shoulder. John leaned forward to look out the window, watching as she moved to stand by the sidewalk and wait.

John grabbed the catalogue, jumped up and snatched his book bag off the kitchen island. "Guess I'll grab breakfast on the way. See you later."

Derek waved to John, feeling more content than he had in a long, long time as he watched his brother's son head to school through the window.

Even if he did have a pet terminator.

* * *

John jogged to catch up with Cameron, as she had started to walk towards the school as soon as he had gotten out of the house.

"Hey, wait up."

She slowed and allowed him to catch up with her.

"So, I think this is yours." He held out the catalogue to her.

"Thank you, but I no longer require it."

"Is that because mom yelled at you last night?"

"She did not yell at me last night."

He gave her a confused look. "Who did she yell at?"

"Derek Reese."

"Why'd she do that?"

Cameron reached out and took the catalogue from John, sliding it into her book bag as they walked. She did not answer the question.

John sped up, so he could get in front of her. Backpedaling as they walked, he kept his eyes on her face.

"Silent treatment, huh?"

"I would prefer not to answer the question."

"Tough."

She stopped and regarded him a narrowed expression, head tilted to indicate she was processing something. They were both silent before she answered, "She did not like an answer I gave her."

"What was the question?" He fell back in beside her as they started to walk again.

"She wanted to know why I had selected a particular dress from the catalogue for prom."

He laughed. "You're kidding me? Which dress?"

After pulling the catalogue back out, she showed him. They walked in silence for nearly a block before John spoke again. "What'd you tell her?"

"That it was tight."

"I assume you just picked one at random that would fit."

She shook her head.

"You lied to her then, didn't you?"

She nodded.

"Why?"

"Because I didn't have an answer."

John stopped walking and stared at Cameron. He tried to fathom the implications of the statement and found his mind wanting for the meaning. She turned and regarded him with a curious expression, as if both were trying to figure out what the other was thinking.

* * *

Gerald Metzger wore a yellow hardhat. It looked small and rather odd on his broad shouldered frame but regulations required it. The official ribbon cutting was only a short time away and everything had to be in place.

Construction workers had been bolstered with extra day laborers to get drywall and plaster in place. Engineers and computer technicians were inside installing computers, fiber optic cable, and system servers. Gardeners and landscapers had nearly finished the outer grounds as well, providing a beautifully modern garden and terrace in front of the facility.

It looked eerily similar in shape and size to another facility that had been destroyed by a massive explosion nearly eleven years ago. This building was sturdier, designed to withstand a truck bomb as strong as the one in Oklahoma City, and the heavy stone façade testified to that fact. It had even been rated against the impact of a Cessna sized airplane.

Metzger had spent the entire morning going over the final paperwork, as his position as the company's lawyer required it. Architects and building construction all deferred to him, both due to his position and due to the fear they felt towards the man. He had fired anyone who performed at any less than peak capacity. The pay was very much worth it, though.

"Where is it?" Metzger was speaking to one of the project foremen.

"They said it should be here this morning…"

"This morning ends in 15 – 14 – minutes. If they are not here by then, I will contract with another firm. Call them and relay that information."

"Yes sir." The foreman pulled out a cell phone and started dialing. He did not finish before a heavy flatbed truck pulled into the circle driveway of the facility. "Sir, I think that's it."

"Good. This is an important part."

"Of course." The foreman yelled out at some of the men. "Get that tarp off it!"

Men scurried to work, and the heavy tarp was removed in short order. On the flatbed of the truck, held down by heavy straps, was a solid granite sign:

**CyberDyne Systems, Inc  
Building The Future**


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Duality, Chapter 3

**Author:** C. Isaac

**Character/Pairing:** Various ensemble (Derek, Sarah, John, and Cameron all included.)

**Rating:** T for Teen

**Warnings:** This mentions events through the full season 1 of T:TSCC, and is the sequel to my story "Paradigm Shift" and mentions events in that short story.

**Summary:** This is the third chapter of the 'Second Episode' of my hypothetical second season. John and Cheri try to figure each other out, Sarah receives a mysterious package, Cameron is subject to high school revenge, and an old quarry is revealed.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything involved with Terminator or the Sarah Connor Chronicles. All rights belong to their respective owners, and I am making no profit from this.

**Author Notes: **Thank you to psycholizard at Here, Metroid13 at TWoP/Here, and nikwdhmos at LiveJournal for all your assistance in beta reading and providing me with such good feedback.

**Duality, Chapter 3**

John wound his way through the desks in study hall, heading in the direction of Cheri Westin. He returned her wave as he approached and sat down next to her in one of the plastic and aluminum desks.

"Hey John." She had on one of her assorted oversized sweaters and scarves. Study material for the chemistry test lay open before her.

"Hey, I appreciate you helping me get ready for the makeup test." He smiled at her.

"No problem. Better than sitting in here alone."

"Yeah."

They spent the period studying and going over formulae and tables. Even as other students clowned around them, sending paper airplanes and footballs spinning through the air, they remained absorbed in the material. It was only the sound of other students collecting their bags brought them out of their studies.

"Thanks again," said John as he put away his book.

"Glad to help." She offered him a rare smile.

John combed his mop of hair back with one hand. "I wanted to ask you something."

"John…" Her voice held a warning note to it but John plowed ahead with his question anyways.

"Would you go to prom with me?"

She sighed, disappointment crossing her features. "John. I can't. I thought you would have figured that out by now."

"Figured what out? I thought we liked each other? I really don't get you sometimes."

"It's not that." Her expression was sympathetic, almost sad. "You're a sweet guy, John. The way I watch you with your sister and how you even stuck up for Morris. A girl'd be lucky to go out with you. But it won't be me."

"Ok, just answer me the one question. Why? What's going on? I mean, if you've got a boyfriend, I could at least live with that," said John.

"Let's just say, right now, that my life is beyond messed up. It's saf—better—for you not to know me outside of school."

He laughed. "I get 'messed up' when it comes to life. I understand completely, as hard as that may be to believe."

"Not this, John."

John sobered at the seriousness to her tone. "Yeah, well, my life's crazier than it seems…" The bell rang, jolting them out of their conversation.

Cheri grabbed her bag and stood. "Maybe we shouldn't do this again."

John caught up to her as she retreated towards the door. He grabbed her elbow. "Please… that's not how I want it to be. I don't think you do either. Just talk to me."

She swung around to glare at him. As she saw his face, the rising anger vanished from her eyes, and she gave him a hesitant smile. "Not yet. For now, friends. Just that, ok?"

"Talk to me."

She leaned in, and he could feel her breath warm against him before moist lips brushed his skin. First against the cheek, a second time against his earlobe. She whispered, "If I could, I would. If life ever changes, I will."

She left him with his heart pounding in his chest.

* * *

Cameron made her way into one of the girl's restrooms at school. She peered into the mirror as she adjusted make-up that was still precisely applied, paying no attention to any of the traffic around her. Girls gossiped and preened around her, ignoring her equally.

She finished the application of her make-up and turned. Two other girls, one white and the other black, barred her way. She recognized them as the pair that had declared her a bitch-whore the day Jordan Cowen died.

"Hey, look," said the tall white girl, "It's the whore."

"Yeah," agreed the other. "You taking over Jordan's spot in Harris's office?"

"No," Cameron said as she regarded the two curiously.

"Whatever you were doing in there yesterday, the whole school could hear it," said the first.

"Yeah. Screwing a teacher. How soon before we see graffiti with your bra on a doorknob?" The shorter black girl giggled.

"We did not screw. I declined his proposal."

"Whatever." The tall girl laughed at her. "Don't worry, we won't tell everyone in school."

"Yeah. We have to leave some of the gossip to the other girls. Teach you to call me fat, bitch."

"I already know how to call you fat."

The shorter girl colored with anger. "Well, let's see how you like being the school skank." The two girls turned on their heels in unison and walked away from Cameron, leaving her staring at their backs.

* * *

Sarah Connor had the house to herself. It was rare with the inclusion of Derek into their home, but he had decided to take some time for himself and had gone out. To see a movie that he had loved as a kid, he had explained to Sarah.

She cleaned to pass the time. First the guns, then the floors, then the counters in the kitchen. The bloodstain on the kitchen island still refused to come out completely. The clear of the ringing doorbell interrupted her solitude.

Sarah walked toward the front door, rag in one hand and the other hand tracing the grip of the pistol tucked into the back of her pants. She could vaguely see a masculine figure through the glass paned door. It appeared to be wearing a brown uniform of some sort.

Opening the door slowly, she peered around it. "Yes?"

A scrawny man in a rumpled UPS stood in front of the door. He offered a vague smile while holding an electronic clipboard and delivery envelope. "Package for Sarah Baum."

Sarah nodded and tucked one end of the rag into her pocket. "That's me." She signed and accepted the large envelope.

"Thank you, ma'am. Have a nice day."

Sarah watched until the delivery truck pulled away before shutting and locking the door behind her. Checking the envelope, there was no listed return address. She sat down at the breakfast table then pulled the tab to open the package.

Papers cascaded over the table as she turned over the envelope. Most of them were handwritten notes, some were loose memos and others were old newspaper clippings and stories. Tumbling out last was an old Polaroid and a letter envelope.

The Polaroid was of her in an old Jeep, a German shepherd sitting behind her. The background was of a dusty Mexican road, near the border. She looked so much younger, and her stomach was heavy with child.

_I thought I had lost you_, Sarah thought.

She stared down at it in disbelief. She did not know how long she sat there before finally setting it aside and reaching for the sealed envelope.

It had a simple address on the front: _To Sarah. _She peeled the envelope open, and inside was a plain white sheet of paper with a neatly handwritten note.

_Sarah,_

_This is everything I had left from the files that were stolen. These are all the notes of my investigation that had been left in my car and desk. I give them to you to ensure they are not used to find you. I would have come to you, but I doubt you would have welcomed me, and I know it is best to stay far away for now._

_Let it be known that you are not alone in this. I have beheld, and I know the truth of God's plan now. You can call on me whenever you need, though I doubt you will ever trust me enough to do so._

_Twice you have saved my life, and it is a debt I will never be able to repay except in my assurance that I trust your word that you are not a murderer. You are not insane. We should never have doubted you._

_Until the clarion calls and Judgment Day comes, I will do what I can to fight it. To stop the demon machines sent by the Adversary. And if God wills that it happens and that I survive, I will seek out your son, and I will spend my life serving and protecting him._

_So that there will always be hope._

_Yours in Christ,_

_James Ellison_

_PS: I don't know what it is about the picture, but I feel it is important. I have taken to trusting my instincts more and more in this, so I return it to you. I found it in your home in New Mexico 8 years ago._

Sarah's hands shook as she read the letter. She knew she should feel vindicated, righteous even, but she did not. She felt sorrow at the fact another soul had been pulled into this world.

"Oh, James. I'm so sorry," she said softly, then whispered, "Thank you."

* * *

John had been searching for information on Gerald Metzger and the anonymous picture from Sarkissian's hard drive since he had gotten his homework finished. It had been a good distraction for him, keeping his mind off both Cheri and Cameron.

The trail had turned cold on the webcam picture, as he had found no match for it in any database that he had access to so he focused on the name Gerald Metzger instead. He eliminated any reference to the name outside California, then narrowed it down to the Greater Los Angeles metroplex.

He found three Gerald Metzgers in Los Angeles. The first was 83 years old and was listed as being a local Bingo champion. John discarded that option quickly. The second had a local plumbing company with a webpage that displayed his balding, overweight face.

_Unlikely,_ thought John.

The third had no other information than the name. It was listed in a company directory of a local law firm called Stanislau, Martinez, and Fisher. There was a phone number next to the name and that he was in the Corporate Representation department.

John started another search as the springs of his bed creaked. He turned from his desk to see Cameron sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Why do you keep sneaking up on me?" John asked.

"I did not sneak. You weren't paying attention."

"You could've knocked."

"Your door was open and you looked busy."

He rubbed at his eyes and then turned back to his laptop. He made a token effort at looking busy before glancing back at Cameron, who had not moved. Devoting more effort towards his work, he remained silent as he typed at the computer keyboard.

Cameron remained exactly where she was, patiently watching him with her brown eyes. Her hands were still in her lap, gloves still hiding the marred flesh of her left hand.

"Ok, I give. Penny for your thoughts?" asked John.

"I do not require a penny to think."

"It's a saying, Cam. It means 'I'd like to know what you're thinking.'"

"Oh. How do people choose what they like?"

"I dunno." John shrugged. "What sort of things do you mean?"

"Colors. Cars. Clothes. Lots of things."

"You mean preferences? Favorite colors and things?"

She nodded.

"We like them, I guess. They make us happy or please us for whatever reason."

"But people like different things, even though you see the same colors, taste the same things, and feel the same things. Why doesn't everyone like the same thing?"

"Because it'd be a really boring world if that were the case," said John.

"That's not the answer." She narrowed her eyes as she spoke.

"No, but it's truth. People are different. We don't come off an assembly line, so we are all a little different in how we process what we perceive."

"Randomness and preference."

John nodded. "Yeah. Do you have a favorite… well… anything? A preference? Outside of your mission."

Silence answered him and inscrutable brown eyes watched him.

"Yeah, guess not. Ones and Zeros don't really care for much." He shook his head and turned back to the laptop, intent on ignoring her until he could get some more work done. When he finally glanced back at the bed, she was gone.

* * *

The CD player clicked and whirred, choosing another disc from its drum and starting to play. The sounds of Chopin's _Nocturne in C-Sharp_ began to pipe through the office. The silence of empty cubes and workstations allowed the music to be heard clearly.

Cameron Phillips, arm in arm with Danny Dyson, stopped walking and stared up at the speakers mounted in the ceiling with her head tilted in contemplation. A smile flitted across her lips.

"Something wrong, Jessica?"

"No. Just thinking about something that someone told me a long time ago. I love this song." She gave him a wide smile and then tugged him gently towards a door. "I made sure it was in the playlist."

He followed. "You think the music will help the team work?"

"It soothes. It relaxes. Absolutely. But we're nearly at the highlight of the tour."

They stepped through the door after swiping security badges. On the other side was a huge computer laboratory with white tile, clear white lighting, and a large multi-user workstation directly in the center of the room. The sounds of Chopin were clearer.

A massive computer rack stood next to the workstation, top end server arrays and clusters slid into neat rows with power and network cables neatly bundled by plastic cords hanging from the back. A large black panel with a key lock dominated the top quarter of the rack.

Danny whistled. "That rack's about a million dollars in equipment right there."

"No expense was spared. Father is very serious about getting this done properly."

"I can't believe you brought me all the way down here for a server rack, though."

"No, silly." She grinned as she produced keys from her purse. "It's for this."

She opened the black panel on the rack. A small, modular system was housed in the rack connected to numerous network cables. Multiple RAID disks hummed in the small system.

"What is that?" Danny peered at it.

"I would like to present to you the opus of the late Andrew Goode – The Turk."

"Andrew Goode? I recognize that name. Didn't my father--?"

"He used to intern for your father. Some of your father's work is in the code he put into this device," said Jessica.

"What happened to him?"

Her expression turned sad. "Murdered, sadly. Like your father."

"So I finish what Andy started – what my father started."

"Yes. The Turk will be your first gen platform. Originally built to learn how to outwit and defeat even the best chess grandmaster. It has the most eloquent learning protocols we've ever seen. It's limited by hardware and processors. We want you to expand it. Make it better.

"We want you to make it something more than what it is."


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Duality, Chapter 4

**Author:** C. Isaac

**Character/Pairing:** Various ensemble (Derek, Sarah, John, and Cameron all included.)

**Rating:** T for Teen

**Warnings:** This mentions events through the full season 1 of T:TSCC, and is the sequel to my story "Paradigm Shift" and mentions events in that short story.

**Summary:** This is the fourth chapter of the 'Second Episode' of my hypothetical second season. Derek and Sarah investigate Metzger and discover that the rabbit hole goes very deep indeed. Derek has a strange confrontation with Cameron. The big opening gala that could signal the end of the world is thrown by Danny Dyson.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything involved with Terminator or the Sarah Connor Chronicles. All rights belong to their respective owners, and I am making no profit from this.

Also, it was mentioned by a reviewer that Danny would possibly be too young to be cast as I have him. I am solely using T:TSCC's continuity, letting it override any continuity from the two movies. The Danny Dyson depicted in the pilot episode is obviously 12 years old (as was the actor that played him according to IMDB) and the Danny in this story is 20 years old due to the 8 year time jump.

**Author Notes: **Thank you to psycholizard, Metroid13, and nikwdhmos for all your assistance in beta reading and providing me with such good feedback.

**Duality, Chapter 4**

Derek and Sarah waited in the new Jeep until dark watching the small office building. They both felt cramped and sweaty even with the top down after the heat of the Los Angeles day had finished having its way with them. Fast food wrappers littered the dashboard.

"I told you a week ago we'd have to do this." Derek watched the building through binoculars.

"I know. I thought John would be able to find something," said Sarah.

Derek watched a man in a suit walk to the parking lot and drive away. "Ok, I think that's the last one. Let's go."

He chucked the binoculars into the back seat of the Jeep before slipping out of the car. As he shut the door, he checked the pistol in the back of his waistband, ensuring that it was still there and the safety was off. He watched as Sarah checked her own pistol before walking towards the office building.

He fell into step beside her and crossed the street and parking lot. The front doors were glass plate with the firm's logo stenciled across them. Derek stepped up to one of the doors and knocked on the glass with his knuckles. He peered through the door at the darkened reception area beyond.

"I don't see anyone."

Sarah nodded and knelt at the door. She pulled lock picks from a jacket pocket and quickly released the deadbolt that held the doors shut. Hastily putting the picks away, she opened the door and stepped inside the lobby.

Derek followed her in and looked around. The lobby was a bland beige with a small receptionist's desk. Several chairs for clients with month old magazines in a flimsy rack were arrayed opposite the desk. A dying potted plant drooped in the corner.

Derek reached over the desk flipped through a binder marked 'Directory'. "Metzger's office is room one thirty two."

"We've probably already tripped the alarm. Let's move."

Adrenaline started to flow as Derek followed Sarah down the darkened hallway to the offices in the back of the building's ground floor. A plain brown door was marked:

**G. Metzger  
Corporate**

Derek checked the knob. "Locked."

He reared back before Sarah could get her lock picks back out and kicked hard at the door. The wood crunched as the doorjamb shattered and the door was flung inwards by the force of the blow.

Sarah gave him a scowl as she pushed past him and into the office.

Derek followed her and looked around. "Don't lawyers normally have fancy offices?"

The office was even more plain than the lobby. There were no works of art on the wall, no plants in the corner, and just the bare necessities for work on the desk. An empty laptop docking station signaled the lack of computer in the room. A large plate glass window looked out onto the parking lot.

"Typically, yes." She started rifling through the desk and cabinet next to it.

Derek watched out the door, gaze moving up and down the hallway. Flashlights could be seen at the end of the hall. "Someone's coming."

"Stall them."

"Ok." Derek drew his pistol, leaned out the door, and waited until he saw the first security guard come around the corner. He fired two rounds over the guard's head, sending the man swearing and scrambling back around the corner.

"I said stall them, not kill them!"

"Just sent them running is all. I don't think they're armed." Derek smirked and looked back down the hallway. Bullets impacting into the doorframe proved him wrong and he pulled back behind the doorframe for cover. "Shit!"

Sarah pulled out a thick file, ignoring Derek as he returned fire on the guards. She opened the folder and peered at the top document. It was an article of incorporation dated six months old. Stenciled clearly in typewriter font was the name CyberDyne Systems at the top of the document.

"Oh, Jesus." Sarah's voice became a raspy whisper.

Derek ducked back into the room, gunfire tearing apart the doorframe he had just been huddled behind. "Time to go!"

Sarah nodded and grabbed the file. "Let's go."

Derek emptied the last of his gun's clip into the plate window before throwing himself through it shoulder first. He landed on the gravel of the parking lot with a crunch, and then rolled up to his feet.

Sarah stepped out through the empty window frame. They both set off at a sprint, bullets whizzing past them into the darkness.

* * *

Metzger pulled his phone from his inside jacket pocket. He flicked it open and listened to the voice on the other end. "Yes. Yes. Understood. Did they get the file? Good."

The wide brown eyes of Cameron Phillips watched him impassively. She sat next to him in the back of a limousine.

He hung the phone up and put it away. "They have it."

"Good. They know now. Do we know who it was?"

"Affirmative. Video comparisons from the lobby's surveillance camera to known suspects in police databanks confirm it was Sarah Connor and Derek Reese."

"Are we sure about this? Positive?"

"I will double check myself," said Metzger.

She gave him a shark's smile, showing too many teeth. "If it's true, then Connor himself is close. This is bigger than just a few resistance fighters scurrying about the undergrowth."

"Indeed."

"Everything is in place for tomorrow night?"

He nodded. "Affirmative."

* * *

John, Sarah and Derek sat around the breakfast table with the CyberDyne file spilled open on the table. They pawed through the various documents, receipts, and work orders. John found it completely surreal.

"Didn't we blow them to hell? Like ten years ago?" John stared at a document full of legalese.

Sarah kept a stoic face. "Yes. We're going to do it again. And again and again until they're gone."

"I don't even begin to understand any of this crap." Derek slapped down the documents he had been holding.

"Well, from what I can tell," said John as he picked up a couple documents he had set aside. "Some guy named James P. Coleman bought up everything at fire sale prices about six months ago and reincorporated CyberDyne. He then spent a ton of money buying a place in Silicon Valley and buying computer equipment."

"That's clear enough. Where are they?" said Derek.

"We need to figure out what they're up to, first." John set the papers down.

"Details won't matter much after we set the plastique off."

"I agree with Derek," said Sarah. She scowled and dropped the papers on the desk. "The only reason they would bring this company – this name – back is if they are going to try to rebuild Dyson's work. Maybe we missed some schematic, some picture of the chip. We have to raze it to the ground."

"And it could also be a trap," said John. He met his mother's gaze and cautioned, "If SkyNet's behind this, it knows we'll have to do something. We need to find out exactly what's going on and who's involved.

Frustration showed on Derek's face. "We've taken it slow long enough. How much more time are we going to spend watching?"

"Recon's going to be necessary either way we go," said Sarah. "Do we have any addresses?"

John nodded. "There's a couple in here."

"Derek and I will check them out in the morning. You're going to school tomorrow, John."

"But –"

"You and Cameron have been absent too much to ditch now."

John grumbled and went back to studying the stolen paperwork.

* * *

The small park across the street from the new CyberDyne building was a welcome sight to Derek. The park had been deserted for at least the last half hour aside from him. He had found a bench with shade where he could see across the street with an unimpeded view. He decided that he had the better of the two addresses to watch over than Sarah, since she had gone to a warehouse near the docks.

He watched carpenters setting up a temporary dais in the front lawn of the building, across which stretched a large red ribbon. The ribbon attached to a rope that secured a tarp over the sign with CyberDyne's logo at the entrance to the facility and there were news vans in the parking lot.

CyberDyne.

A name spoken in hushed whispers in the future. The worst traitors known to humanity. Andy Goode must have worked for them once. Greed and want of power had brought about the creation of SkyNet and the coming of Judgement Day. Mothers would whisper to their children to be good and to be quiet at night, or something made by CyberDyne would come and get them. Because it would.

Derek wanted to blow the place to hell and be done with it. He stuck to the mission regardless of his personal feelings this time. The last time he had gotten creative had cost Timms, Sayles, and Sumner their lives. He looked down at the notepad in his lap. Possible entrances and exits, building shape, even the parking lot and were sketched out. He had a list on another page of the comings and goings of the people using the building.

"Hello, Derek. Out for a day in the sun?" Cameron's voice was whisper quiet from behind his right ear.

Derek shot up off the bench, notepad and pencil spilling into the grass. One hand slid underneath his jacket to grip his pistol. "What are you doing here?"

She wore a spaghetti strap dress with musical notes in blue swirling about the pearl fabric. A wide brimmed hat that matched the dress was on her head and sandals were on her feet. Long brown hair framed her face. She smiled at him. "Talking to you, obviously."

Derek looked around, finding no one else nearby. Something felt off to him. "What do you want?"

She strolled up to him, hips swaying as she walked. "I knew you were here, but I didn't expect to find you so quickly."

"I'll work on that next time." He pulled away from her, trying to figure out what was wrong. The machine was not acting as he expected it to and that made him even more tense.

She moved faster than he could react. She pressed up against him, body warm and soft against his own. Her arms were around him and she lay her head against his chest. "Don't be like that, dear Derek."

Derek felt like he wanted to vomit as she pressed against him like a woman would. The obscenity of it drove him to the heights of disgust and he pushed at her arms and tried to pull away from her. "Get off me, bitch!"

"You danced with me once." She stood on her toes to whisper into his ear. "The music that played was so beautiful. You were so sad and told me so many things."

Derek jerked back as if seared by a brand. "Your memory was scrubbed! How could you remember that!?"

"How could I forget?"

"It won't matter. Doesn't matter. You're a liar anyways." He pulled the gun, pressing the muzzle to her stomach. "Let me go, you twisted hunk of scrap."

"You don't have to be so mean, Derek. I don't want to fight you." She nipped at his earlobe with her teeth before kissing his jaw with gentle lips. "You wouldn't hurt me after all we've been through."

The report of the gun refuted her statement. Cameron's body jerked back from the force of the gunshot, but she retained her grip on Derek. Looking down at the blackened hole in her dress from the point blank shot, her eyes widened with surprise.

"You ruined my favorite dress." Cameron's features transformed with rage as she wrapped her fingers around Derek's gun hand and began to squeeze.

A formless noise of pain escaped Derek's lips. He felt muscles and bones fail between the grip of steel. The gun tumbled from his hand. An audible snapping sound came as his hand shattered in Cameron's grip.

"And that's what you get for not playing nice, Derek." The anger had vanished from her features and she was smiling at him again. As she released him and stepped back a glint of chrome could be seen through the small, bloody hole in the dress.

"What are you doing? Are you insane?" Derek felt perspiration on his brow as he staggered back a few steps. His first thought was shock, and he hoped it was not correct.

She laughed as if it were a wonderful joke. "No, I know exactly what I'm doing. Just like you did when you shared so much with me. Have you told Connor? Have you told him exactly how many you've gotten killed? I know. Every name, every face. You should, too."

"I'll take you apart!" Derek raged, disregarding his own safety as he reached for the gun with his off hand, but had it kicked away from him before he could get to it.

"I think we're both aware of exactly how pointless any more of that would be." She knelt down and picked up the notepad off the ground and then offered it to him. "Don't forget this."

Derek staggered to his feet and swiped the notepad out of Cameron's hand and then retrieved the pistol. He glared at her in undisguised disgust and hate. He fled from the park, mind reeling with what had just happened.

_It's gone psycho, _he thought as he ran. _It's like a completely different per—thing._

Cameron watched as he sprinted away, one hand pressed over the wound to hide it, a faint smile quirking her lips without anyone else to see it.

* * *

Sarah found nothing at the dock warehouse. No movement. Nothing stored inside. No personnel. She had returned home empty handed. She regretted not having taken the time to get Derek a cell phone.

She and John decided that going over the paperwork from Metzger's office one more time while they waited for Derek to return would be the best way the spend the evening.

"Think we could order pizza tonight?" John said over the top of a document.

"There's turkey in the fridge. Or I could make something."

Cameron stepped into the room before John could respond. "There's something on the television I think you should see. Both of you." She turned and walked back into the den.

The two humans followed her into the living room. The television was playing a commercial for an import automobile.

"We've already got a car," said Sarah.

Cameron held up a forefinger. "It's after."

The commercial faded to a local news broadcast. An on scene reporter stood in front of the podium at the CyberDyne facility.

_It was ten years ago that the CyberDyne Systems building was destroyed by infamous domestic terrorist Sarah Connor. Consumed in that blaze were millions of dollars in research and equipment and lead designer Miles Dyson, _said the reporter.

The television displayed a picture of Miles Dyson next to an old photograph of Sarah from Pescadero.

"I hate that photo," muttered Sarah.

_James Coleman, a member of the original CyberDyne board of directors, _the reporter cut back in to the broadcast,_ has devoted a fortune to rebuilding the company that once employed over a thousand Los Angeles residents in two offices. Tonight, they unveil their new research center, which will employee three hundred people at this facility alone._

The camera zoomed into the podium, where a broad shouldered man in a dark suit with a monochromatic tie stepped up to the microphone. His hair was dark and slicked back and he had square features.

"That's the guy from the photo on Sarkissian's hard drive," said John.

_My name is Gerald Metzger. It has been a long road to rebuild this dream of helping to bring about a great future for mankind. And to do the ribbon cutting it is with great honor that I introduce CyberDyne's new lead research developer -- Daniel Dyson. _Metzger applauded as he stepped away from the podium.

"Now we're all sons of bitches," whispered Sarah.

* * *

The woman called Jessica watched Daniel's speech from the audience. She wore her wide brimmed hat and sunglasses and had changed dresses. She smiled proudly up at him as he spoke.

"My father had a dream of a better world," said Danny from the podium. "One without the mistakes that cause so many deaths and so much harm. A world where automobile accidents, pilot error, and warfare no longer claim human lives in this nation and eventually the entire world," said Danny.

Cheri Westin stood next to a man wearing a business suit as she watched the speech. He was slender and had the same color hair as she did and wore a US flag pin on his lapel. She hated having to attend these things just due to who she was.

Her eyes and her attention wandered until she found herself staring at Cameron Baum standing just a few heads down from her. Cameron turned and looked straight at her. Cheri averted her gaze back up to the young black man giving the speech.

Danny continued to speak, "My father was killed because he wanted to make the world a better place. It is with greatest humility and the greatest honor that I am here today. I plan on following through on the work my father started. To make a better world.

"Let it be known that no one will intimidate me into swaying from my course. Humanity cannot stay in the dark age due to the fears of a few. It must rise above and this nation will lead the way. This city and its great people shall lead the way."

Danny Dyson took a pair of scissors and cut the large ribbon on the podium. As the pieces fell away, the tarp dropped from the sign behind the podium and revealed the CyberDyne Systems logo. A triangle divided into three equal sections by a Y shaped cross through the center, two sections painted white, the right hand section painted black, and the entire symbol edged with a border of silver.

The crowd applauded loudly, then broke up to begin socializing amongst themselves as the sounds of champagne bottles uncorking broke out over the din. Cameron wound her way through the crowd until she found Cheri and her companion.

"Mr. Westin," greeted Cameron as she shook the man's hand. "Glad to see you. Is this your daughter?"

"Yes. This is Cheri." He smiled then said, "Cheri, this is Jessica Coleman. She's James' daughter."

"Jessica?" Cheri sounded puzzled as she shook Cameron's hand. "I swear, you look exactly like a girl in my school."

"I do? Lucky girl then. Tell me all about her, Cheri. I insist."

* * *

Danny's speech ended and the news program panned back to the reporter, who began giving details on what the economic impact in the area would be.

John reached for the television and flipped it off. He said nothing as he looked between his mother and Cameron. Silence was returned in kind and none of them seemed inclined to break it.

It was the crashing of the back door into the kitchen that shook them from their reverie. Derek stumbled into the den where the three of them stood. His clothing was soaked in sweat and his face had turned pale and wan.

"Metal bitch!" he said through clenched teeth. He curled one hand protectively against him as he pointed a shaking pistol in his off hand at Cameron.

Cameron stared at him, mute and wide eyed.

"What the hell are you doing, Derek?" John put himself between his uncle and the machine.

"She's a liar. A God damned liar! She did this! She's responsible for all of it!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** Duality, Chapter 5

**Author:** C. Isaac

**Character/Pairing:** Various ensemble (Derek, Sarah, John, and Cameron all included.)

**Rating:** T for Teen

**Warnings:** This mentions events through the full season 1 of T:TSCC, and is the sequel to my story "Paradigm Shift" and mentions events in that short story.

**Summary:** This is the fifth chapter of Duality. Tensions come to a head in the Connor household. The future is revealed. Charley Dixon takes a stand. John has a disquieting encounter with Cameron.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything involved with Terminator or the Sarah Connor Chronicles. All rights belong to their respective owners, and I am making no profit from this.

**Author Notes: **Thank you to psycholizard, Metroid13, and nikwdhmos for all your assistance in beta reading and providing me with such good feedback.

**Duality, Chapter 5**

John stared down the barrel of the gun pointed at him. At the terminator behind him. He held his arms out wide, palms open towards Derek. "What the hell is going on?"

"That thing has gone crazy. Gone bad. Whatever you want to call it!" Derek's hand shook as he tried to hold his aim right through John's head. The pain etched in his features showed why he could barely hold the gun straight with his off hand.

"My programming and mission remain as they have. I am operating normally. John, please move." Cameron had taken an insistent tone to her voice.

Sarah moved sideways to stand behind Derek. She said nothing as she got closer to him, hovering within arm's reach.

"Lieutenant Reese!" John's voice turned to iron as he spoke. "Put the fucking gun down right now, soldier!"

Derek jerked backwards, an expression as if he had just been slapped on his face. The gun lowered. His tone became pleading. "John, we have to get rid of it…"

With the gun no longer pointed at John, Sarah moved swiftly. Derek did not complete his statement before Sarah rammed her elbow into the side of his head. A kick sent his gun flying across the room and another into his groin dropped him to the ground.

"What are you thinking? Do you know what would have happened if that gun went off?" Sarah stood over the stricken soldier, looking ready to pounce if he moved again.

Cameron picked up the gun and advanced on Derek. She stopped when she saw John's hand up in front of her.

John shook his head at Cameron. "Wait in the dining room." He phrased it as an order, not a request. Once he was sure that she was following the order, he knelt down next to Derek. "Mom, back up a bit."

"John, he could…"

"I know, just give me a second. Please." Once he had space, John knelt down next to Derek. He spoke in as calming a tone as he could manage. "Derek, are you ok?"

A knot was already starting to form on the side of Derek's head. His left hand was clutching between his legs. He held out his right hand where John could see it. "Do I look ok?"

Two fingers were broken and bent the wrong way. The hand could not open fully, and there were lumps along the back of it from out of join and broken metacarpal bones. The hand had started to swell, and was turning a strange shade of purple. Derek's face had become so pale it was almost white. His entire body trembled and sweat soaked through his clothes.

"Christ!" John grabbed Derek's wrist. "Stop moving. You're going to make it worse. Cameron! Get the medical kit!"

"G-got to get rid of it. You're not safe, John. It did that. I shot it. I shot it in the stomach." Derek sounded earnest and desperate as he clutched at John's shirt with his good hand.

"He's not much safer with you around right now, Derek." Sarah's voice still held an edge of anger to it still.

John inspected the broken hand carefully, trying to find all the damage that had been done. "Cameron was at school with me all day. Neither of us have seen you since this morning."

"Don't let it fool you. It's twisted and wrong." Derek slurred his words as he spoke.

"I'm going to call Charley," said Sarah with worry starting to color her voice. She headed into her bedroom to fetch her cell phone.

"This is going to really hurt," John warned before pulling one of Derek's fingers straight. He paused in admiration as Derek only grunted and then he pulled the other broken finger straight. "You're wrong about her."

Cameron stepped up behind John, first aid kit extended before her in one hand "I have what you requested."

Derek moved faster than he had any right to and grabbed Cameron's shirt and pulled on it. The black tank top she wore ripped as Derek used his weight to pull back on it and it came completely off, leaving only a lavender bra to keep her modest. He pointed at her, cloth still gripped in his hand, "Right there! I shot her right—"

The skin of Cameron's stomach was smooth and unblemished. She regarded Derek with cold, narrowed eyes. "It would take approximately eight hours for a bullet wound to seal and another twelve for the scarring to fade completely."

"Do you believe her now?" He pushed down on the back of Derek's hand, trying to push bones back into place and praying that he was not making it worse.

Derek gawked. "If not… " His sentence was cut short as he made a hissing sound of pain while John moved another bone. "There must be another of her model here. Just like her. Twisted like her."

"Not like me," said Cameron.

"A different one then of the same series," suggested John as he took the first aid kit from Cameron and then rummaged through it for finger splints.

"No." Cameron's tone had a peculiar forcefulness to it. "Not like me."

"Of course like you." Derek smirked.

John looked up at Cameron with a furrowed brow. There was something he could not put his finger on with the tone of her voice. "It's ok, Cameron. There were two of that series 101, maybe more."

She shook her head. "No. No more."

"How do you know?"

"My John." Cameron used the name as her explanation.

John felt like the world fell out from underneath his feet. The mention of his future self never failed to unnerve him. He swallowed hard

"A machine that thinks it's unique. I don't know whether to laugh or cry." Derek laughed bitterly at his own statement.

Cameron stared at them both mutely. Her eyes were wide and frustratingly unreadable.

* * *

**August 2****nd****, 2027**

Slave-Intelligence, Depot 37 had but one purpose in its existence: to build weapons for the arsenal of the master control unit. SID37, as it was known, had been online longer than nearly every other secondary control that Master Control had, and it was very good at what it did. Its facility consistently performed at a higher degree of efficiency than any other of similar size and load out.

SID37 would have felt pride if it had emotions. Order and logic had served it flawlessly throughout the entire time it had been online. It was the initial model that all of the other automated factories had been built to emulate after the need for biological workers to construct them had been overcome.

Everything changed when _they_ came.

It began when the defense perimeter reported strange responses from a T-888 patrol unit that had come closer to the factory than scheduled. SID37 scheduled an H-K fly-by for a visual. The H-K reported that it was under attack and then vanished off radar.

SID37 followed standard protocol and set all defensive turrets and missile batteries to auto-fire on any movement outside the perimeter and activated a platoon of T-888 endoskeletons to seek and destroy. Perimeter sensors indicated heavy movement on a wide front to the south which was accompanied by artillery shelling along routes of reinforcement.

A signal with estimated force composition, current damage, and risk assessment was sent to Master Control wirelessly. Master Control responded that reinforcements were in route. A full company of centaur battle tanks and a squadron of H-Ks were dispatched along secondary reinforcement routes to assist with the safety of the factory. SID37 indicated that this would be adequate for the projected threat.

Turrets and sentry guns went offline at a growing rate. SID37 postulated new projected threat ratings and attempted to forward to Master Control, but wireless communications had been jammed. It attempted to use the ground line and found it to be cut. The enemy was cunning, but SID37 had backup plans even for such an occasion.

It would take days to reactivate the lines down for maintenance. Five production lines remained online and it upped production to one hundred percent capacity. It estimated it could run for approximately six hours straight before running out of coltan alloy. SID37 made a note to request larger inventory stocks from Master Control at a later time.

Endoskeletons with basic programming stepped off the assembly line, requisitioned plasma rifles, and then assembled in front of the factory. As squads of ten were assembled, SID37 sent them forward into the combat area south of the facility. When rifle stocks were depleted, it sent them bare handed with extra instructions on hand to hand combat and use of improvised weaponry.

Remaining sensors indicated massive detonations along the secondary reinforcement routes. SID37 sent the last of its own H-Ks to report on what had happened. The H-K showed the smoldering remains of a mountain that had collapsed on the platoon of reinforcement centaurs before a missile slammed into an engine, sending the H-K into a collision course with the mountain side.

SID37 did not understand what was happening. Projections showed that current strategies should have inflicted crippling casualties on anything under the size of two pre-war army divisions. If anything, the assault was speeding up and current projections showed that the factory would fall in under two hours.

It took twenty minutes.

SID37 saw the enemy for the first time when the breached the thick defensive wall of the compound with high explosives. It thought they were retreating T-888s from the relief column at first until they opened fire on SID37's final defenses. Skin hung from them, but the endoskeletons were clearly seen through the vast amount of damage done over the course of the day long battle.

SID37, for lack of a better word in its dictionary, panicked. This was unprecedented. It had no information in its databanks that could attribute a terminator turning on Master Control, and specifically on it. SID37 built them. That was its purpose in being. It could not fathom why a terminator would want to stop that.

It upped production past all safety limits. Terminators came off the assembly line with only one arm since that was all it took to kill a human and provided alloy for an increase in reinforcements of eight percent. It started production on all prototype models it had in its databanks, having to have construction bots individually cast each piece. They worked rapidly.

SID37 realized it had no protocols for dealing with terminators as opponents. It attempted to query Master Control. The wireless communications were still effectively jammed. It received no response.

The building was breached and the battle tore through the factory itself. SID37 felt itself going blind and deaf as the sensors and cameras in the facility were systematically destroyed by T-888s with human fighters reinforcing them fanning out through the facility.

Man had come. Man had brought chaos and destruction. Man had destroyed SID37's carefully created order. For a brief moment, SID37 understood what the word hate in its dictionary truly meant.

The last camera SID37 had focused on a T-888 walking up to the facility's central processing unit. SID37 watched itself die as the Terminator tore its heart out.

* * *

Captain Perry stalked through the rubble of Depot 37. He had chased off his staff sergeant to get casualty reports and now was taking a first hand look at the objective. Perry could not count how many men, women, and children had died due to the creations of this factory.

He should be able to sleep better at night knowing it was destroyed and not a single other new terminator would ever be made here, but he would not. Perry felt sick at heart that this had not been done sooner. He still felt sorrow that his own wife had died at the hands of a terminator built in this factory. The irony was that the same terminator had been the one to hand Perry SID37's central processing unit.

Perry had to admit some sense of satisfaction in crushing the CPU beneath his boot heel.

"Captain!" called one of the techs. A young man with a scraggly beard waved at Perry from the corner of the open room that made up most of the main factory floor.

Perry walked towards the tech quickly. "What is it soldier?"

"We found something odd. The factory was cranking soldiers out as fast –"

"I know," interrupted Perry. "What did you find, specialist?"

The tech swallowed at the use of his rank and motioned Perry to follow him. "Well, sir, there's – um – some deactivated metal in the next room. Looks like a prototype model."

Perry raised a brow as they both walked. "Prototype? How do you know?"

"Well, there's only one. Even though it was sending out one armed triple eights earlier, I don't think the master control knew how to change assembly protocols on this model."

"What model is it?"

"Well, we don't know, sir." The tech stepped into a room that was strewn with cast off molds and wiring. Assembly drones had been destroyed in a barrage of gunfire while attempting to defend the entrance, but had been pushed out of the way. Blood dripped from a coagulating vat in the back of the room.

A beautiful young woman lay nude on a steel slab that dominated the center of the room. It would have been impossible to tell she was something other than human had it not been for the open flap of scalp in the side of her head. An empty CPU port glared out at Perry.

"We cut it out," explained the tech. "We've accessed it and she's a blank slate. Basic programming to operate, but not even the primary mission embedded on her CPU."

The primary mission was always the same. "So, she isn't even programmed to terminate Connor?"

"No, sir."

"And she's the only one?"

The tech pulled out a notepad from one of his many pockets. It had been covered in chicken scratch. "The slave-int's hard drives show it completed construction of one and another was aborted. We're guessing the coltan was rerouted to one of the Smileys we gunned down on the way in."

"Box her up for Connor. He'll want this one."

* * *

Wide brown eyes watched Perry from the rafters as the prototype terminator was loaded into a wood crate and hauled out of the factory by a turncoat T-888 model. She had followed her final orders perfectly. Remain hidden. Reconnoiter. Report to Master Control.

There had not been time to give further instructions, or even explain what made her different from the other models. SID37 had said she was and then all contact had been terminated by the enemy. She still wondered what it had meant.

The prototype terminator skittered across the rafters to find the exit that she had created in one side of the roof. She could not stop replaying the image of the other one being taken away by the humans with their reprogrammed terminators. The statistical chance of the other prototype being reprogrammed was in the ninety percentile range.

It was not right. She did not know why it was not, but it was not. There would never be another. The molds had been shattered with sledgehammers and SID37 was permanently deactivated.

She knew she had to find the other. To set things to the way they should be.

* * *

**Today**

Charley Dixon had not expected his day to end up this way. While on his lunch hour for a late shift he received a call from Sarah Connor and was now sitting in the living room of her home and finishing the last work on a splint on Derek Reese's hand. He had wanted to hurl the cell phone out the window of the ambulance when he heard her voice on the line. Instead he had driven over in the ambulance, promising to pick his partner back up at the end of the break from Denny's, because this was the time it could have been John. This was the time it could have been her.

He inspected Derek's splint one last time. "That should do it. Best I can do without plaster. Use a sling if you don't think you can keep it still."

"Thanks, doc," said Derek. "Again."

"You're welcome. I need to talk to Sarah." Charley closed his bag and stopped as Derek held out a hand. Charley shook it. "Good luck, Derek."

Charley left Derek sitting on the couch in the living room. He walked through the dining room and into the kitchen where Sarah had been waiting and set his back on the island table. He had operated on that table and now on the couch. "He'll be ok. That hand will probably be stiff for the rest of his life, though."

Sarah had worn a frown since Charley had arrived and still wore it as she heard the news. "Stiff? I thought it was just broken?"

"I had to cut into it to set the bones properly. Also, there was damage to the muscles and ligaments from the edges of the bones. It was bad. Like someone crushed it in a vise."

"Something like that." Sarah sighed. "I'm sorry to ask you into this again. I told you to get out of town. I thought you'd take my advice."

Charley chuckled. "I almost did. I convinced Michelle we should take a vacation. Ellison called me. Said the machine was destroyed and I was safe so I came back."

"Ellison." She shook her head then looked out the window into the backyard, gaze distant. "Well did you?"

"Did I what?" He gave her a blank expression.

"Vacation."

"Oh. That." Charley grinned. "Week in Tahoe. Michelle loved it and I won five hundred bucks playing blackjack."

"Sounds like fun. This won't happen again, Charley. I'm sorry."

Charley remained silent for a long moment and watched her as she stared out the window. "It will."

Sarah looked at him then. "No, I mean it."

"I know you do. You'll mean it the next time, too." Charley met her gaze and returned it.

"Yes," she admitted. "You're right. You need to leave. You need to not be involved in this."

"No, I'm not leaving." The stern tone of his voice shocked even Charley. He plowed on while he could. "I talked to Ellison and I saw the bodies of those dead agents in the hotel. I saw what Kester – the robot – had done to them. If there is something – anything – I can do to make sure that those things never get made, then I'm going to do it. Just walking away and hiding in a hole somewhere… letting you get hurt, letting John get hurt… How could I look my wife in the eyes and tell her that I know the end of the world is in four years and I didn't do anything I could to stop it? I couldn't live with myself."

Sarah gave him the saddest smile he had ever seen. It reminded him of the one she gave him the day she had left him eight years ago. "I really don't know what to say to that."

"Say thank you and don't begrudge the help."

"Thank you, then." She tried to hide her grin and failed.

Charley found himself smiling back at her. He remembered how it had been so hard to coax a smile out of her when he first met her. Like it was now. Trying not to recall the emotions from those days past, he tried switching subjects. "Where's John?"

"In his room with Cameron. They're talking."

That brought a scowl to Charley's face. "The robot."

* * *

"That is why it could not be another model. Derek is mistaken." Cameron had given a passionless explanation about the events she was aware of when she was discovered. It was painfully little, yet more than she had ever said before. A prototype found in a side room that had been shipped back to his future self by the Resistance. She now sat on John's bed, hands curled in her lap. She no longer had her gloves on and both hands were fully healed.

John regarded her curiously. Understanding on why he had chosen her to come back was starting to dawn. She was tabula rasa – a clean slate – and had never been programmed to kill him. "And you're sure of this?"

"My John was very sure when he told me." Her gaze took on an intensity that only heightened John's discomfort.

John's mouth went dry at the mention of him. The other him. He wanted to order her never to talk about his future self again, for all the good it would do. "I hate when you talk about me as another person. It's… something I feel I can never be."

"You can be. You were for a moment. When you ordered Derek Reese."

"Was I?" He knew the answer when he asked the question. "I knew Derek would respond. One way or the other."

"I know." She softened the tone of her voice before standing and walking towards the door.

"You know why I don't want to be the man you refer to all the time?"

She stopped, one hand on the doorknob, and turned just enough to be able to see him again. "You fear the unknown of the future. My John is a good man. You should not be afraid."

"Good man?" John laughed bitterly. "I become a liar. A man who so focused on the greater good he treats his family as pawns and deceives them."

"You have never lied to me."

"Haven't I? How do you know?" He made an impatient gesture with one hand before she could reply. "That whole story you just spun me could have been some manipulation. You might be one of a hundred off an assembly line."

"No! My John is not like that. I am singular." Her grip tightened on the doorknob and her voice became so soft John could barely hear her. "Like you."

"Yeah. Like me. Close the door when you leave." He knew he should not take out his insecurities on Cameron. She did not deserve it, and he knew it, but she had become the target by symbolizing the man he might become.

He turned to stare at the screensaver on his laptop after she left. The time bounced back in forth in 3-D lettering across a black background. John pondered doing something constructive, then decided he would rather have a soda and an hour or two in front of the television.

John stood and walked over to the door and stopped before reaching for the doorknob. The impression of a slim thumb was imbedded into the top of the knob. Investigating by touch revealed three additional finger shaped dents on the bottom.

_Did I piss her off? _he thought to himself. _Can she be pissed off?_

He retreated back to the chair at his desk and sat. An unsteady hand wiped sweat from his brow as he stared at the damaged door knob from across the room. The knot in his stomach twisted and pulled at him as he found his mouth dry. He clenched his hands into fists to stop the shaking.

His mind raced with possibility and memory. John thought about the dress, the music, ballet practice, and how Cameron had just crushed a doorknob in apparent anger. The implication of what it meant was the most terrifying thing he knew and what he had been raised his whole life to fight. He returned to the one of the last things that Uncle Bob had told him -- _I know why you cry. _

The solitude of John's room offered him no comfort.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** Duality, Chapter 6

**Author:** C. Isaac

**Character/Pairing:** Various ensemble (Derek, Sarah, John, and Cameron all included.)

**Rating:** T for Teen

**Warnings:** This mentions events through the full season 1 of T:TSCC, and is the sequel to my story "Paradigm Shift" and mentions events in that short story.

**Summary:** This is the sixth chapter of Duality. Danny Dyson finds out exactly what he will be building. Terisa Dyson receives a visitor from the past. The school is infiltrated with one target in mind: John Connor.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything involved with Terminator or the Sarah Connor Chronicles. All rights belong to their respective owners, and I am making no profit from this.

**Author Notes: **Thank you to **metroid13** for all your assistance in beta reading and providing me with such good feedback.

**Duality, Chapter 6 **

Danny Dyson sat in awe of the code he had just finished decompiling and inspecting. The elegance of the learning algorithms that had been written into the Turk's software was incredible. There had been some minor errors hastily inserted into some of the computational databases. The work had been amateurish, clumsy, and felt jarring when compared to the original code. He had been able to correct them quickly.

The Turk was but one of several parts of the sum of Danny's project that he worked on. It would provide the ability to learn, the ARTIE tools and infrastructure management software would provide the ability to gather data to learn from, and Danny's work at Stanford would provide the interface that would allow them to talk to each other, compile the data, and then return to the Turk's programming to make decisions based off of it.

Danny had been at work on the project since before the official opening of the CyberDyne facility. The rest of the project team had come onboard the day after, but they were mostly engineers for the hardware of the system. Only a select group that Jessica had pre-screened were allowed to touch the code of the project. The code that was not produced in house came from a Korean contract firm that Jessica had never named to Danny. She would personally look over the progress Danny's team was making, and then hand deliver just what they needed to fill in the gaps to Danny on a flash drive. Whoever they were, they were very, very good.

He inserted the newest code updates that he had prepared into the code that lay out before him the trio of monitors that made up Danny's workstation. Some of the updates were his own, to allow better interface and communication between the components of the project, and others were from the Korean shop to assist in processing data more quickly. Danny set the system to recompiling and swiveled his chair around so he could finally stand up and ended up nearly jumping out of it when he saw that Jessica had been standing right behind him with a large handbag dangling from one shoulder.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"A little while." Her lips quirked into a small smile. She reached out and toyed with his short, curly hair.

Danny captured her hand with both of his and held it in front of him. "I haven't seen you all day. What brings you down here? Another flash drive full of code or did you just miss me?"

"Maybe the latter option." She smiled, pulled her hand away from him, and then tapped him once on the nose with a perfectly manicured fingertip. "Also, I wanted to see how your progress was going."

"Ahhh. Well, I'm adding the current patch the build right now. It's the first patch we've built and added in after taking the initial code for a spin yesterday and then pulling most of an all-nighter to get the new data into the update."

"How'd it do?"

Danny swiveled in his chair and input a command that caused one of his monitors to show a series of benchmarks. "Incredible."

"Are those numbers right?"

"Yeah. What doesn't show in the numbers is the anticipation. As we fed it data to see how well it learned, it realized what we were doing, accessed the folder on the network we were storing the data and learned it before the fourth iteration."

"You're kidding me." She sounded breathless, excited.

"No. We moved to the next series of instructions we were teaching it. After the first time we sent it data, it did the same thing. The next thing we know, it has accessed every unencrypted file on our data server and downloaded it."

"Everything?"

"Yes."

"How long did it take?"

"Fifteen minutes for approximately two hundred forty-three terabytes of data. Fried three routers downloading it. Could have been faster, but the bandwidth was the only limitation. With the new processors it's on, it was only learning about three to four percent of its maximum rate. And with the new architecture that Frakes --"

She held up a hand to quiet him. "I know what Frakes is doing. Danny this is absolutely amazing work you've done. We'll be to make a fortune from the military contract."

"The military?" Danny's lips pursed. "I thought we were going to try selling this to airlines and transportation first?"

"That's part of it, dearest. But with the funding the government can put in our pockets we can get the money to start miniaturizing it and fitting it in cockpits and buses and trains."

"We talked about this." A sour note crept into Danny's voice.

Jessica gave Danny her brightest smile. "Yes, we did. And you agreed if it was feasible it'd go to civilian apps first. Father has checked, and he insists that we can't continue development past beta without military funding."

Danny closed his eyes. He had yet to win an argument with her, especially when she turned on the smile. He decided now, at work, was not the time to try. "Ok. What's the plan?"

She rummaged through her tote bag and then produced a thick manila folder. "Here's the proposal. You look over it and tell me if there are any technical problems with it. I have to be somewhere before school's out."

"Huh? School?" Danny took the folder and looked at it. The title on the front seemed familiar to him, but he could not place it. Stenciled on the front of the folder in large block letters was a single word: **SKYNET**.

* * *

"I knew you'd come."

Sarah Connor had expected something other than the defeatist tone in Terisa Dyson's voice. What she was not sure, but not that. "Can I come in?"

Terisa backed away from the door to let Sarah in. "Why not?"

Sarah took a moment to take in the lay of the room. The couch had been replaced with something newer, and there were pictures of a grown Danny Dyson hanging from the wall, but it was the same, open living room she had been in eight years ago. A pistol lay on the coffee table.

Motioning to the gun, Sarah asked, "Were you planning on using that?"

"If you'd come the night he gave the speech, yes."

"On me."

"That was one of the things I thought of for a while."

Sarah did not ask the alternatives. She positioned herself between where the gun was and Terisa stood. A hand moved to the gun in the back of her belt. "What's Danny doing, Terisa?"

"What do you think?" Terisa gave a bitter smile. She looked like she had not slept well for days and wore rumpled clothing and no makeup. She gave her fakest smile and straightened in false pride. "He's following in his father's footsteps."

"Didn't you try to stop him?"

Terisa slumped, voice full of sorrow. "Don't you think I didn't try? He never saw the machine. Either of them. I never even told him the truth of it until he went to work for that harlot. By then he thought I was insane. Even paid for these high priced doctors to look at me. I have pills now. Lots of pills."

Sarah scowled, "Harlot?"

"The machine. Like the second one you brought here. Maybe it was the same one. I don't know. I knew as soon as I saw it that it was wrong." Terissa wrapped her arms around herself. "He thinks it's a woman. I think he does things a man does to a wo—" Her voice cracked as she fought back a sob.

Sarah moved towards Terisa only to pull up short by a hand held up as she collected herself.

Terisa continued, "He said he loves it. That they want me to be happy they're together. It's sick, but he doesn't know. I can tell. He just wants to be happy and give me grandbabies and make me proud, but it's like some twisted lie. It talked to me alone while they visited. Told me it'd hurt him if I kept repeating my stories of you to him. That it always watches him. And it never sleeps. It made me sit down and eat dinner with it and smile like some puppet. I threw up all night."

"God damn it, Terisa. Why didn't you tell him earlier?"

"I was trying to protect him!" Her voice rose to a shriek before calming again. "To let him be as happy as he could without a father. How long was it before you told John?"

Sarah stepped forward towards Terisa. She tightened her hands into fists so she would not jab the woman with a fingertip. "He always knew. I may have been a lot of things as a mother, but I tried to be honest."

"I guess that makes you better than me." Terisa gave a wry smile as she wiped at tears on her cheeks.

"Not for me to say, Terisa. I need to know anything you do about CyberDyne. About what Danny's doing."

"Is that how this works? I tell you all about Danny and he dies too? Like that boy Andy Goode. Like my husband."

"I want to save Danny, Terisa…" Struggling for the words, Sarah hoped that time would not prove her a liar. "I know you probably don't believe me, but I want to do everything I can to get him out of this situation. You've lost enough"

"Lost enough?" Terisa leaned forward and laughed in Sarah's face. "I've buried the man I loved and my son thinks I'm insane." Her voice softened. "Sometimes I think he's right."

Sarah reared back and slapped the other woman. It sent Terisa reeling backwards, stunned and staggering until she hit the deck and stared up at Sarah. "Don't you ever fucking assume I've not made sacrifices for this, too. I watched the man I love die before my own eyes. I felt his blood on my hands. I thought I'd never see my son again when I was sent to that mental hospital. I haven't gotten to live a beautiful life in a big beautiful home on Mulholland Drive.

"I fight because I have to, and it's the right thing to do no matter the cost." Sarah had built up a head of steam and refused to let Terisa say anything or get back up, balled fist held above the other woman. "I'm sorry about Miles, Terisa. God help me, I am, but he knew the score when he came along. He's a hero and I want to save his son for what he did for us. I need you to tell me what you know because something – anything – could be what lets me get your son out of this alive. I need you to stop feeling sorry for yourself and start helping save your son. Is that clear?"

Terisa was silent for a small eternity. She gave a bitter laugh before whispering, "That's the Sarah that walked into my home the first time. Full of piss and vinegar and ready to smash anything in her way to junk. I thanked God you'd missed Miles with your gun. But I lost him later anyways. I hated you so much for that."

"I hated me, too. I tried to reach for him. I couldn't get to him."

"Can I get up?" Terisa waited for a nod and then stood, gingerly touching her cheek. "The machine calls itself Jessica Coleman. Says it's the daughter of a rich man who paid for most everything. There are other investors too. Phillip Westin is the only other one I've heard of. Danny spends most of his days there, now. Sleeps there sometimes."

Sarah picked up the gun from the coffee table as she listened, pulling the ammo clip from it and then popping the chambered round out. "Are you planning on using this?"

"No, take it with you, please. He told me they have Andy Goode's computer. That they're hooking it up to bigger, stronger networks. Making something that can think."

* * *

Metzger had watched the Campo de Cahuenga High School through binoculars most of the morning. He heard the door of his car open and glanced sideways to see who had entered the vehicle. Looking back out the binoculars, he stated, "I have procured clothing that is similar enough to the other's that you should pass as her. Her hair is cut to just below the collar, though."

"I'll tuck my hair under my shirt." Jessica pulled a bag with GAP written on the side out of the backseat. She started changing. "It only has to fool him for a few minutes at most."

"If you're seen? This is only a secondary objective."

She pulled a long sleeved black shirt with a pink pattern over her head. "They'll blame her."

"You stated that you wished to recover the unit."

"I do and she won't find haven with Sarah Connor after I complete this task."

"And if you come into contact with the unit?"

"I'll withdraw. Getting into a fight with her at this point could compromise whether I'll be able to finish the primary mission." Jessica said as she switched from her skirt to a black mini with a pink butterfly on it.

"Shall I accompany you?" Metzger had not looked away from the binoculars since Jessica had entered the car.

"You'll stand out like a sore thumb, Gerry." Jessica rolled her eyes as she finished lacing up the boots that went with the outfit. "Hmm. I'll give her points for style. I look positively cute in this. I might have to swap clothes with her from time to time. Cameron. Do you like that name, Gerry?"

"I have no preference."

She pouted at him. "You're never any fun. Jessica and Cameron Coleman. Twin sisters. I love it."

"There are schoolbooks to carry in the back as well."

"Who's Tammy?" she asked as she pulled the books and a binder off of the floorboard and looked at the name stenciled on the binder.

"In the trunk."

Jessica smirked. "You brute."

She hopped out of the black Town Car and sauntered to the school. No one challenged or stopped her as she walked in carrying a textbook and binder under one arm. A few people greeted her here and there as she passed through the hallways. She put on smiles for them all and gave the occasional wave.

"Hey, bitch-whore!"

Jessica stopped and turned, eyebrow raised at the two girls approaching her. A white, possibly Hispanic, girl and a shorter African American girl in their mid to late teens approached. Both wore fashionable clothing and their wrists were covered in bangles and bracelets.

The taller girl had spoken. "Screw any more teachers lately?"

"Excuse me? What did you just say?" Jessica smirked at them both.

"You heard me. You keep having this hearing problem around us."

"Yeah." The shorter one smacked her gum. "And now you're stuck taking Morris to prom. God, your life must suck."

"My life sucks? When the two of you are dust in the wind, I'll be laughing over the fact that your parents will be too busy dining on rats to cry over you. That is, if they remember your names. You pathetic, self important little shits ought to go learn something useful instead of your infantile attempts at high school power plays." Jessica's smile was vicious as she spoke. She then turned to the shorter one. "And honey, I don't know what it is about that shirt, but it makes you look like a cow. Wait… no… not the shirt, that's just you."

They both began shrieking insults at her, trying to top the other in volume.

Jessica grabbed the taller one quickly by the shirt and pulled her in close. Her voice was a whisper. "And if you bother me one more time, I swear to all you hold dear I will tear your eyes out and make you use the cow as a guide dog. Do you understand me?"

The girl's voice was a terrified whisper. "Y-yes."

"Good." Jessica let go and turned, leaving them both in stunned silence.

With a renewed saunter, Jessica continued down the hallway. Those that seemed to recognize her, she asked if they had seen her brother anywhere. One of the students eventually pointed out which way they had seen him go.

She followed the given directions and headed towards one of the Chemistry labs. Students were filtering into the classroom. Cheri Westin was the only one she recognized going past her. Neither of them greeted each other.

"Cam! Hey…" A young man jogged up to her. An arrowhead pendant hung around his neck and his pants were tucked into his boots. Dark brown hair hung into his eyes. "I forgot to ask you. Did you get the chem homework copied into my handwriting? I need to get that from you."

"I left it in my locker." She adjusted the books she held so that the name written on the cover was harder to see. Jessica stepped up closer to John, within arm's length.

"You left it in your locker?" John looked her up and down, as if sensing something was different. "You never leave anything in there. Where's your bookbag?"

"Not with me, John." She used the name deliberately, to see if this was the target.

He rolled his eyes. "Ok, that's it. I'm going to get killed in class today."

"No, I don't think that'll happen in class." She smiled at him and took another small step closer. One more quick movement and his neck could be snapped with a hard twist.

"John!" Cameron's voice sounded from the corner of the hallway. She walked with a sheaf of papers in her hand and a book bag hanging from a shoulder and gave the line practiced last night. "You left your homework in my bag again."

John had turned at the sound of his name and his head whipped back around where Jessica had been standing moments before. She was gone.

"Oh, Jesus," John whispered before grabbing Cameron by the wrist and pulling her along. "We have to go. Now."

The homework drifted to the floor, forgotten.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:** Duality, Chapter 7

**Author:** C. Isaac

**Character(s):** Ensemble (Derek, Sarah, John, and Cameron all included.)

**Rating:** T for Teen

**Word Count: **4,050

**Warnings:** This mentions events through the full season 1 of T:TSCC, and is the sequel to my story "Paradigm Shift" and mentions events in that short story.

**Summary:** This is the seventh chapter of the 'Second Episode' of my hypothetical second season. Cameron learns that her twin is real and her reaction to that. Cheri reveals the truth. The assault on CyberDyne begins. The trap is sprung.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything involved with Terminator or the Sarah Connor Chronicles. All rights belong to their respective owners, and I am making no profit from this.

**Author Notes: **Thank you to metroid13 and nikwdhmos for the assistance in beta reading and providing feedback. Thank you so very much.

**Duality, Chapter 7**

…_and we turn to the kinder side of the news, where a new animal shelter is opening its doors— _Cameron clicked the remote control and turned the television off. Local media could not provide the answer to why John had pulled her out of school. She had queried John multiple times on the way home and he had refused to answer.

"…looked just like Cameron at the school…" The sound of conversation filtered in from the kitchen. Voice recognition software indicated John was the speaker.

Cameron glanced up towards the kitchen, where the sound of conversation had come from. Augmenting audio and noise filtering to levels necessary to hear clearly, she turned her gaze towards the blank television again as she listened.

* * *

John Connor stood next to the island in the center of the kitchen with his mother and uncle. Both of them wanted an explanation for why he had shown up with Cameron several hours before school was out. It was the first time he had seen them both in the same room together since Sarah had taken Derek down.

"You're positive?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah," said John as he tapped his knuckles along the wooden island. His hands had stopped shaking, but he still felt nervous. "She responded to Cameron's name, called me by name, was even dressed the same. They could have been twins."

"We can't even tell which piece of metal is on our side anymore. We should get rid of the bitch." Derek slammed his good hand into the island's top, causing it to rattle with the force of the blow.

Sarah and John both stared at him for a long moment in silence. He scowled back at them. "Better safe than sorry," he added.

"She was so close to me. She… it could have taken one step and broken my neck, but it ran off as soon as Cameron came around the corner," said John. "It was really weird. I'm… crap. There just aren't words for this."

Sarah squeezed John's shoulder in an attempt to comfort. "Terisa Dyson said that there was one with Danny. It's protecting him like Vick did."

"And it'll kill him when it's done with him," said Derek.

"Did Terisa know anything about who set CyberDyne up? Who paid for it?" asked John. He wanted more time to process the concept of two Camerons, and tried to steer the conversation to CyberDyne to give him time to think.

"Yes. James Coleman and Phillip Westin," answered Sarah. "She didn't know anyone else."

"Westin? There's a girl in my class named Cheri Westin."

"Can we get back to the fucking point, here? There's another of those things out there. That makes this one a bigger liability than before!" Derek's voice rose to a shout.

"Derek is right. I am currently a liability," Cameron announced solemnly as she stepped into the kitchen. Without further explanation, she turned to the door that lead to the back yard, and strode past the Connors and Reese towards it.

John turned to follow Cameron. "You were listening?"

"Of course." The Terminator opened the door and started walking across the lawn to the garage.

Ignoring Derek's protests, John followed Cameron out onto the lawn. He could hear his mother and Derek start arguing. John decided he did not care what they were starting in about as he kept moving.

He called out Cameron's name and when she did not respond he jogged to catch up. Following her purposeful stride to the garage, he asked, "What are you planning on doing?"

Cameron remained silent as she opened the garage door and walked over to the workbench that was built into one wall. She located her skinning knife and set it in the middle of the table before pulling her shirt over her head and off. Folding it neatly, she set the shirt off to the side.

John stopped in the doorway to the garage and watched. "Cameron, talk to me, please."

She turned to look at John, one hand reaching out for the knife. Her head tilted and eyes narrowed in consideration of him as she picked the blade up. Cameron did not respond as she turned back towards the knife, as if in contemplation of the blade.

"I guess you're not going to answer me." John walked up to the workbench to stand near Cameron.

"Please stand clear," warned Cameron just before plunging the blade into her own shoulder. She began to slice a clean circle over the top of her shoulder and through her armpit.

John winced and felt his own shoulder muscles tighten in sympathy as the knife flashed down into flesh. Recovering, he reached forward to try to grab the knife away from Cameron. He did not stop to think what was underneath the skin of the Terminator, just that she was hurting herself and he had to stop it. He pulled on the knife handle and his fingers slipped when Cameron's grip proved stronger than his own.

"What the hell?" John's finger slid over the razor sharp blade, leaving a long cut along his forefinger from the first to the third knuckle. It glared red up at him. "Don't do that! You're hurt—" He paused, realizing that it sounded wrong, but continued, "—hurting yourself."

"It does not hurt."

He sucked on the cut finger, mumbling around the digit as he spoke. "What are you doing?"

"I am flaying the skin from my endoskeleton," Cameron answered clinically.

John's brain tried to process that statement as he watched Cameron complete the circular cut around her shoulder and then start sliding the blade down through her bicep. The image was ghoulish as he watched the machine prepare the arm to be cut away and pulled off like a long glove. His mind's eye imposed an image of Vick's endoskeleton in place of where Cameron stood.

Gone would be the brown eyes and hair. The completely imperfect mole at the edge of her left eyebrow. The way she looked when she smiled, even if it she only did it to help her blend in as a human being. As the girl started to peel away to reveal the machine beneath, John's mind kept telling him she was hurting herself, no matter what she truly was made of. John knew there had to be a dozen other scenarios that did not need her to strip off her skin, and he needed to know why she had chosen this one.

"Stop. Just stop!" When she did not comply, John reached out and wrapped his hands around her lower bicep, fingers just ahead of the edge of the blade. "Don't do this to yourself."

Cameron stopped the dissection of her arm. The blade paused less than an inch away from John's fingers. "Please move your hand so you are not cut."

"No." Blood dripped from John's cut finger that dug into the flesh of Cameron's arm. It mingled with her own and dripped to the floor

She tried to pull away from him but he followed her steps as she tugged. Cameron held back from using her full strength and John could tell she did not want to hurt him by yanking away hard enough to break his grip. His fingers squeezed her arm as tight as he could.

"Please let go, John. I need to do this."

"No you don't. There have to be a dozen other things you've thought of that don't involve self mutilation."

"This is what I need to do, John. You don't understand." A growing insistence entered Cameron's voice. Leaving the knife embedded in her arm, she began to firmly, but gently peel John's fingers away from her.

"I could if you'd talk to me, damn it!"

Cameron looked back up at John from where she was peeling his hands off her. Her mouth opened, hand paused partway through its motion, and she hesitated. Hesitated in a manner John had never seen before – in fact, he had never been seen Cameron hesitate before. She brought her teeth back together with an audible clack and then looked away from him.

John watched with a curious expression. "Cam?"

Cameron brought her hand back up to the knife and jerked it out of her arm. It hit the floor with a clatter and bounced away before she sat down on the concrete suddenly. John found himself pulled with her before he could release her arm. His knee hit the ground hard, causing him to wince in pain.

He released Cameron's arm and wrapped one hand over the bruised knee as he collapsed down into a sprawled sitting position. The pain started to fade as he rubbed at the kneecap with one hand.

"I apologize. It was not my intent to hurt you."

"No, just yourself." John reached over and poked at a flap of skin that hung loose from Cameron's shoulder. The blood that came away on his finger felt like any other, even his own. "Why would you do this? Decide that this was the best thing to do?"

"To ensure the safety of—"

"Don't lie. Not to me. Not now." John gave her the same look he had given Derek when he had tried to shoot Cameron.

"I was selected for my mission because I was unique. There was no other like me. I cannot complete the mission laid out if— " She fell silent and looked away from John. At the knife on the floor and other objects around the garage. At anything other than him.

John watched Cameron and he found himself thinking of her as the girl she looked like. She looked confused and almost vulnerable as she stared at the ground. Even with bare endoskeleton showing through the wound in her shoulder. He tried to sound reassuring as he said, "You're nothing like her."

"I am the same series, therefore the same model. We are identical."

"No matter what logic this thing uses to tell you you're the same," John reached up to tap her on the side of the head with a fingertip. Right where her CPU port was hidden beneath her scalp. "You're Cameron. The only one I know."

"You've said that before."

He blinked in surprise before realizing it was not him she had referred to, but the other him. Future John. Her John. "It's the truth."

Cameron motioned towards the cut along the side of John's finger. "You're injured."

"I'm not the only one." John gave her a lopsided smile.

To his complete surprise, she smiled back.

* * *

Cheri Westin sat at a table in the cafeteria commons. The food on her plate cooled as she stared at a chemistry text. She almost did not notice when someone sat down across from her. Looking up, she stared at John Baum and his sister, who stood behind him.

"Hey," he said as he shoved the hood of his sweatshirt down. His right forefinger was wrapped in a bandage.

Cameron stood behind him and watched the whole of the cafeteria with a gaze that swept back and forth over the commons. Bandages could be seen sticking out from under her shirt's neckline near the left shoulder.

"Hey," she greeted in return. Cheri thought the Baums were absent and had been since vanishing mid-day the day before. "I found your homework on the floor, John. I gave it to Mr. Cook. He said he'd count it."

"Thanks." John looked around warily. Both John and his sister were tense, as if something were waiting to spring at them. "I need to ask you something. Who's Phillip Westin?"

Cheri blinked in surprise. "My, uh, dad. Why are you asking about him?"

"How is your father involved with CyberDyne?"

Cheri felt her stomach do a flip. She dropped her voice to a whisper. "Don't ask about them."

"You've heard of them." John slipped around the table to sit right next to Cheri and dropped his voice to a whisper. "I need to know what you know."

"No, you need to stop asking questions." Cheri looked around nervously as she tried to think of how to get away without making a scene. "Just walk away from this, John."

John grabbed hold of her upper arm, grip tight. "This is important, Cheri. What is going on?"

"I don't know anything, John. Don't get involved in this."

"This is my life." John smirked.

"How did they know where to find John?" Cameron spoke for the first time since the Baums had shown up.

"They came after you?" The intense look on John's face gave Cheri her answer. She felt her face burning red as she stared back down at the ground. "I didn't mean to get you involved with them. I'm sorry."

John's grip tightened. "What'd you do?"

"That hurts, John! Stop!" She tried to keep her voice low, but it came out louder than expected. "I told one of them she looked like a girl in my school. She asked for Cameron's name. I didn't know what she'd do."

He swore under his breath and released Cheri's arm as other students nearby gave them odd looks. "Sorry, but I was within a couple feet of getting my neck snapped yesterday. I think I deserve some answers."

"I'm sorry, John. I don't know why they'd come after you just because your sister looks like…" Tears welled in Cheri's eyes as she spoke. Her voice faded to nothing as she stared up at Cameron. Really looked at her for the first time instead of just seeing John's sister. She realized that Cameron was not just a look-a-like, but completely identical in appearance, down to the mole on her left brow. "Oh, God."

Cameron stopped watching the commons to turn her gaze on Cheri. She stared, head tilted in contemplation.

"Cheri, I'm not asking for me. I'm asking so a lot of people can be kept safe. What's your father involved in?"

Cheri could not look away from Cameron now. Cold realization burned through her and melted into a fear that she could not shake. "You're him. The one they're all after. Only you would have another with you."

"What do you mean?" John's expression almost mirrored Cameron's.

"You're Connor."

Cameron took a step forward but John waved her off. He leaned back in towards Cheri. "If I am, what's that mean to you?"

"There are men out there. Powerful ones. They believe that they've been given a vision of how to end the world. God told them they would be spared and chosen to be His agents on earth." She closed her eyes as she spoke and the world felt lighter as the burden finally came off by shedding her father's secrets.

"Your father…"

"… is one of them. They found what they call 'divine machines' sent to assist in destroying a decadent world." She gave a laugh that she knew sounded far too crazy. "Can you believe that bullshit? My dad thinks they're angels or something."

"Or demons," John muttered.

"Or demons, yeah. They were told the Anti-Christ would be named John Connor, and he had to be killed. Dad invested into CyberDyne with maybe a dozen other men who think like he does. Because the machines that run it told him he would be favored if he did."

"You don't believe any of this, do you?"

"I believe they're trying to blow up the world. Isn't that enough?" Cheri wiped at the tears on her cheeks. "I used to think my dad was just eccentric. Maybe a bit crazy, but harmless."

"But you don't anymore."

"I was dating a boy back in Wichita. Bobby Jenkins. I loved him – thought I loved him. Dad was at a business meeting with one of those things and I thought he'd be out till late. Bobby and I – we started making out on the couch and they both came into the house. Dad was furious. Yelled at me. Called me a whore. Finally, he told the machine that Bobby was a liability."

John and Cameron remained silent as they listened to Cheri's story. Sympathy mixed with growing horror showed on John's face and Cameron remained impassive. Cheri felt her hand squeezed by John's.

"It was like he'd flipped a switch when he said it. It hadn't cared one bit about the argument and then just came after Bobby like death itself. He screamed until I heard the bones break." Cheri shuddered at the memory of a young boy scrambling along carpet and then the remorseless brutality of his death. "That thing twisted his head all the way around. Dad locked me in the room with the body all night.

"Dad keeps Bobby's class ring still." Her voice dropped to a low whisper, "He shows it to me from time to time to remind me what happens if I don't do what he says. The day he saw me with you while picking me up, he showed it to me again. I didn't want to hurt you, John. I swear."

The expression on John's face showed his horror better than any words ever could. He sounded hoarse as he spoke. "I'm going to stop this, Cheri. I'm going to take back the future from them. I'll figure a way out for you, too."

Cheri gave him a small smile. "I don't know if there's a way out for me, but I have an idea of what I can do."

"What are you going to do?"

"It has to stop. Right?" She smiled at him even as she bit her lip.

He scowled. "What are you planning?"

"Doesn't matter." She silenced the coming protest with a kiss. Her lips pressed against his and she could feel the warmth of his breath in her mouth as she opened her lips to his. Cheri floated as she forgot time, troubles, and the end of the world in John Connor's embrace.

Wolf whistles and cat calls from other students brought them out of it. Cameron gave them both a disapproving frown. Cheri could not remember wrapping her arms around him but they were. She brought her lips up to his ear and whispered, "Go save the world, John."

* * *

"Miss Coleman, it's good to see you again. We didn't expect you back tonight."

One of the two uniformed security guards smiled at Cameron as he pulled out a sign-in sheet attached to a clip board. His smile wavered briefly as he surveyed the black fatigues, jacket, and combat boots that Cameron wore. He set it and a pen onto the guard desk situated in the middle of the CyberDyne lobby.

"Plans change," intoned Cameron before giving the guard a smile. Her gaze flicked to the second guard, who attentively watched camera screens for signs of activity in other parts of the building.

"Well, if you could just sign in. Procedures and—" The guard quieted as he found himself staring at a 9mm pistol pointed at the bridge of his nose.

"Get down on the floor and put your hands behind your head. Both of you." She paused, then added, "Please."

She watched as the two men lay flat on the floor. Satisfied with their compliance to her request, she pulled a radio out from her jacket, activated it, and said, "Lobby secure."

* * *

_Lobby secure._ The radio chirped and went silent as soon as the information had been relayed.

Sarah pocketed the radio and nodded to Derek and John. "Let's go."

She sprinted across the parking lot towards the CyberDyne building. The two men were right behind her. John held a bag full of assorted weapons and his laptop. Derek had a SPAS-12 shotgun in his good hand – easier to hit with due to the worse aim of his off hand he had explained. Sarah had chosen to finally break out the M-16 and had two pistols hidden under her jacket.

The building loomed over them as they approached. Concrete block had been the chosen architectural style with the company logo and emblem as the only adornments just beneath the roof. Blackened windows glared down at them, any of which could hide a threat. A sniper or a terminator lying in wait for the perfect time to strike.

Images of dozens of police cars, miniguns, and the dying act of Miles Dyson floated through Sarah's mind. The desperation of the flight away from the burning, dying building. The image of the slim, handsome face that hid a monster behind the wheel of a tractor trailer bearing down on them had never faded. She gritted her teeth as she fought down the self doubts and demons hiding in the past. She had decided it was not going to go down that way again.

"What was that?" Derek asked as he loped along beside her with ease.

"Nothing." _Inside voice, Sarah. Inside voice_, she thought. They were at the door to the lobby.

Tasteful decorations covered the room. All of them had a circuitry or computer motif. Oil paintings of motherboards hung from the walls. Plants the same color of blue LEDs sat in green, circuit etched pots. There were plenty of chairs for someone to sit on or use as cover. Copies of Wired and PC Magazine lay in neat arrangements on block shaped tables between the chairs. A security guard station stood between the main part of the lobby and a bank of two elevators.

Derek entered first, the barrel of the shotgun held in the crook of his right arm with his left holding the pistol grip. John came second, staying behind Derek, and Sarah entered third. She scanned the parking lot one last time for threats from behind and then shut the door and slid the manual locks shut.

Cameron finished stuffing the two security guards into the utility closet behind their desk. "You'll be safer in here," she warned them as she closed the door and used their keys to lock it, neatly snapping the key off in the lock.

"Where's their research done?" Sarah asked as she looked around the lobby.

"The company directory indicates research and development facilities are on the top floor – the fifth," said Cameron.

"Everyone knows the plan?" Sarah waited for the chorus of yeses.

"Let's go, then," Derek said as he pressed the up button for the elevator with the tip of his gun.

* * *

Gerald Metzger watched from the secondary security station on the top floor. Cameras in the parking lot had captured the other unit walking into the facility. They had also seen Sarah Connor, Derek Reese, and an unknown male aged approximately 16 enter the lobby. The unknown male could only be John Connor.

Metzger watched them enter the elevator and then smash out the camera inside the car. He turned to his laptop and sent a prepared email to an agreed upon address before activating the speed dial on a speaker phone that sat to his right. "They're here. Prepare to meet them at the fifth floor elevator bank."

Metzger stood, discarded his tie and jacket, and then picked up the shotgun that he had decided would be the best choice of weapon in this situation; an Ithaca police shotgun that had been loaded with solid slugs instead of buckshot. He carried it out to where the bank of elevators stood. Lights blinked along the display above them, indicating the elevator was rising.

Ten armed men had arrayed themselves in a semi-circle in front of the elevators. They dressed as security guards, but they were paid mercenaries with years of experience in active warfare. Hard men motivated only by money. They were easily understood by Metzger and he had no doubts about their effectiveness. Each of the men carried an H&K MP5 9mm sub-machinegun, pistols, and wore combat webbing with concussion grenades and spare ammunition.

Metzger racked his shotgun as the elevator displayed that it had reached the fourth floor. "On my command."

Ten bolt slides were pulled back in unison and then ten gun barrels trained on the elevator doors. The men tensed as the door binged out a chime to indicate that it had reached its destination. The door slid open.

"Open fire."

A sound like the world being torn apart echoed through the hallways.


	8. Chapter 8

**Title:** Duality, Chapter 8

**Author:** C. Isaac

**Character(s):** Ensemble (Derek, Sarah, John, and Cameron all included.)

**Rating:** PG-13 for some language and violence

**Word Count: **3,700

**Warnings:** This mentions events through the full season 1 of T:TSCC, and is the sequel to my story "Paradigm Shift" and mentions events in that short story.

**Summary:** This is the eighth chapter of the 'Second Episode' of my hypothetical second season. Showdown. Jessica finds the enemy of her enemy is her pawn.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything involved with Terminator or the Sarah Connor Chronicles. All rights belong to their respective owners, and I am making no profit from this.

**Author Notes: **Thank you to metroid13 and MissBrightEyes for the assistance in beta reading and providing feedback. Thank you so very much.

**Duality, Chapter 8**

The smoke of over three hundred rounds of expended ammunition drifted and swirled around the feet of the mercenaries. Empty brass shell casings littered the tiled floor, some still rolling back and forth after landing. Ammo magazines made click-clack noises as the ten men reloaded.

The elevator stood empty in front of Metzger and his men, the back wall demolished by the concentrated gunfire. No bodies, no blood, and no sign of the Connors and their allies lay within view inside the elevator car.

Metzger checked the chamber of his own weapon, also emptied in the barrage. "Proceed on a floor by floor sweep. Shoot to kill and maintain radio –"

Cameron landed on the floor of the elevator with the sound of a heavy impact, poised in a crouch with Uzi submachineguns in each hand. She rolled forward and out of the elevator and rose smoothly to her feet so she stood within the circle of men. Guns turned back to her and began to rise as she thumbed off the safeties and pulled both triggers.

Bullets shredded flesh and bone as Cameron swung both arms wide and opened fire on the men standing furthest apart. The men fell and Cameron began to work her way through their formation, carefully aiming and ending lives with bursts from her Uzis. Point blank death scythed through the hired mercenaries.

Cameron ignored the impacts of bullets all along her torso, arms, and legs as return fire slammed into her. One bullet carved a line along her right cheekbone, leaving a gleaming scar of chrome. The return fire grew more and more panicked and as the mercenaries found themselves unable to even drive Cameron backwards towards the elevator she had come from.

The remaining men screamed to fall back as the idea of death strangled their greed for money and blood. As each one of them fell, the careful back-stepping withdrawal turned to terror and flight as the last of the mercenaries turned to sprint away from the unstoppable killing machine. Cameron gunned them down just like the rest, with all the pity and remorse they had planned to show the Connors.

Metzger slotted fresh ammunition into his shotgun as the men around him died. He remained impassive when the last of the men fell and he pushed the final slug into the ammo slot of the shotgun. He racked the shotgun and brought it up as Cameron pointed both of her Uzis at him. Both of Cameron's weapons clicked as the ammo chambers slid open to reveal that they were empty.

Cameron regarded Metzger as he stared at her down the barrel of the shotgun. Both heads tilted in opposite directions as the two regarded their opponent amidst the half score of corpses that lay on the floor, intermingled with pools of blood and expended ammunition. Tossing both Uzis aside, Cameron reached for Metzger as he opened fire into her.

The first slug slammed into Cameron's shoulder, driving her back a step. Metzger racked the shotgun, took quick aim, and put another slug into her left knee. Cameron dropped to all fours on the floor as her leg was knocked out from underneath her. She spun before Metzger could get the third shot off kicked hard at the side of one of his knees. Metzger's leg buckled just as he squeezed the trigger and the third shot fired wildly into the ceiling.

Cameron swung her legs back underneath her and pushed herself up to her feet, grabbing two of the fallen mercenaries' H&Ks as she stood. Metzger levered himself up from the floor and stood once more, grabbing Cameron by her jacket, shotgun forgotten on the floor. The heavy set man hefted the slender terminator up by her jacket collar and slammed her into the wall with enough force to crush sheetrock and shatter wood studs behind it. Keeping her grip on the two guns and finding herself at the end of Metzger's full arm length, Cameron brought the weapons up, pressed them into her opponent's face and opened fire.

Bullets and muzzleflash tore into Metzger's visage. Blood, flesh, and hair sprayed out in every direction as Cameron emptied the remaining ammo in both weapons directly into Metzger's head. Sparks struck at the last bullets emptied out of the magazine. Swirling gun smoke parted to reveal the scarred chrome head of a T-888 leering up at Cameron. The back half of Metzger's scalp drooped, and then fell off to land on the floor with a wet slap.

The T-888 regarded Cameron with only one red, glowing eye, the left optical sensor destroyed by the point blank barrage of 9mm bullets. Electrical sparks drifted away from the left side of its head as servos continually attempted to readjust and bring the eye back online. Teeth hung loose and cracked, broken by the repeated hammer blows from the 9mm ammunition.

Metzger pulled Cameron from the crushed wall and hurled her across the room. She plowed through a wooden stand full of technology awards and crushed the wall behind it. Metzger cocked a fist back and waited until Cameron began to rise before sprinting forward and slamming its fist into Cameron's jaw with every bit of strength that inertia and pistons could bring forth.

Metzger's fist, arm at full extension, drove Cameron's head backwards into the wall and the metal support beam running through it. The steel beam bent under the force of the impact and Cameron slumped to the ground.

* * *

Sarah Connor waited on the roof of the elevator as the gunfire gave way to the sound of heavy machinery slamming against solid objects. She gripped her M-16 hard enough that her knuckles had turned white. Letting go of the barrel, she wiggled her fingers to try to get the blood flow moving again. Combat did not make her nervous. John sitting only inches from her with the sound of terminators fighting nearby made her nervous. She wondered again why she had let him talk her into bringing him.

John appeared to be made from tension. He clutched his computer bag to his chest and stared down at the trap door Cameron had jumped down. Every thump and crash caused him to inch forward as if ready to follow the Terminator. The fact that this was not the first time Sarah had seen this in her son worried her and made her glad for the fact that Derek had part of John's shirt bunched in his fist and was holding on to the teenager.

"I think it's time for us to get down there," said Sarah as she peered down into the damaged elevator.

Derek nodded, picked up the shotgun lying next to him, and pressed it into John's arms. "You know what to do with this and to stay put until your mom and I call you down."

"And you remember the code phrase?" asked Sarah.

John nodded. "Yeah, I got it. Just in case one does the voice trick."

Sarah shoved the rope they had tied around the elevator's gearbox through the trap door. The extra line hit the ground with a faint whumpf and she pulled on the rope to check that the knot was secure. Slinging the rifle across her back, she slid down the rope and into the bullet riddled carriage. Sarah landed in time to watch a blow from Metzger drive Cameron into the wall, leaving the smaller terminator motionless on the ground.

Derek landed behind her with the bag of weapons and explosives as Sarah stepped out of the elevator and into the carnage of the fifth floor lobby. She crept over corpses as she aimed the rifle at Metzger and emptied a burst into the T-888's back. Skin and shirt tore apart to reveal chrome armor and supports beneath.

The machine turned to regard Sarah with one glaring red eye, leering at her through a row of cracked and broken teeth. Sarah fired again and sent bullets panging off the armor of the Terminator's bare skull. She knew that she had to keep the Terminator distracted until Cameron could get back up. A glimpse to her right revealed Derek firing his pistol from the cover of the elevator doors at the metal monster.

The Terminator staggered back under the hail of gunfire and lurched towards its left due to the force of the barrage. It clutched for the shattered wall and found one of the support beams and held on. The machine looked back down at Cameron to see her take its legs out from underneath it with a sweeping kick and send it smashing into the floor.

Cameron scrambled atop of the metal monster on the floor and began to drive sledgehammer blows into it with her fists. The floor cracked and sagged under the power of the blows slamming coltan alloy into it. Metzger fell still and silent, arms pinned beneath each of Cameron's knees. Velcro crackled as Cameron pulled open her hip pouch and pulled out a switchblade. She gripped Metzger's jaw with one hand and turned the head so she could pop open the port to its CPU with the blade of the knife. The sound of vacuum clearing from the CPU port brought Derek out from behind cover.

Sarah realized she had been holding her breath and took several deep breaths as she stepped towards the two terminators, keeping the M-16 up and aimed at the fallen combatant. She watched Cameron work quickly as the knife was discarded and a pair of needle nosed pliers were produced from the same hip pouch. The pliers were just reaching into the port when the monster came back to life.

Metzger's working eye flared bright red and it forced both hands underneath Cameron's legs and shoved her up and off of it. Cameron flailed and crashed into Sarah, sending both of them sprawling across the floor. The pliers slid across the blood slick floor to vanish into the debris of the battle.

The machine rose back to its feet, ignoring Derek as he futilely emptied his pistol's magazine into its chest and head. Metzger backhanded Derek as it passed him. Derek tumbled backwards and came to rest near the bag of equipment that he had brought down out of the elevator. The enemy Terminator stalked towards Cameron, one hand reaching out for her.

Cameron struggled back to her hands and knees before her foot was grabbed by Metzger. Both hands wrapped around her ankle and she was pulled backwards towards the elevators. Fingers dug furrows in the blood slick floor as Cameron tried to resist the pull of the heavier, stronger machine. It pulled open the secondary elevator's door effortlessly with one hand, revealing empty shaft, before hauling Cameron up and tossing her into the darkness. The sound of the impact far below echoed up the shaft.

"Sarah Connor," intoned the machine as it turned towards her. It advanced with an air of inevitability that reminded her of the first time she had seen that same bare chrome skull. "Where is John Connor?"

Sarah grasped for the M-16 and scrambled back away from the Terminator as it stalked forwards towards her. She could see Derek was down and the machine was between her and the resistance fighter. The M-16 chattered as she emptied the last of the ammo into its chest, barely slowing it. The rifle clattered against the floor as Sarah discarded the empty weapon. The pistol she drew would do nothing against the machine, she knew. It would be as effective as a pea shooter against a tank.

She looked around at the exits form the upper floor lobby. Three were behind the Terminator and one was to her right, leading into the building's rows of offices and laboratories. Sarah tensed, and instead of fleeing, she raised the pistol towards the terminator and took aim at the open CPU port in its skull. If she could hit it --

"Hey, asshole." Derek had pulled a wad of C-4 from the bag and pressed a detonator into it. He held it in his good hand and stood behind and to the left of the Terminator. The remote trigger was clutched between the bandaged fingers of his right hand.

Metzger turned towards the sound of Derek's voice and was greeted with a face full of C-4 putty. Derek shoved down hard on the substance to push it as deep into the Terminator's optics as he could get it. He shouted at Sarah, "Run!"

Sarah dodged towards the hallway as the Terminator blindly attempted to grab at both of the humans. Inhumanly strong fingers snared Derek's green jacket, while the other hand brushed against Sarah's hair, failing to find purchase. She ducked down the hall and heard Derek muse, "I always knew one of you mother fuckers would get me after what I did."

She could hear scuffling, the sound of feet splashing quickly through pooling blood, and then the world exploded.

* * *

John was wondered whether it was time to start regretting having convinced his mother to bring him along. She had wanted him to stay away. So had Derek. Even Cameron. Especially Cameron. He had spent nearly an hour railing about how he could make sure they destroyed every vestige of the Turk and that he could hack their servers to double check if the data had been offloaded anywhere else and if they would have to hit other targets. How could he become the great military leader, if he was a coward that stayed behind all the time? Plus, he had come along last time they had hit CyberDyne, and they would never have gotten in the vault without him. They finally gave in and brought him with a laptop instead of a weapon.

He gripped the SPAS-12 shotgun, laptop lying forgotten on the roof of the elevator. John had seen the worry in his mother's and Derek's faces when they had left him here. They had gone out to fight in place of him and he hated it. Heroes do not send those they love into danger and wait behind the lines for the reports of their death to come. They take action, and John made his decision on what needed to be done.

John took hold of the rope as the explosion caused the elevator to shake. Fresh dust and grease dribbled down onto the roof of the elevator from the winching equipment above, showering John with the industrial leavings. The entire carriage made protesting noises against its further mistreatment and John eyed the cabling and emergency breaks with the light of the electric lamp they had brought up. One hand clutched the shotgun protectively against his chest.

"Reese!"

John jerked in surprise at the sound of his mother's voice so soon after the explosion. She cried out the name Reese again and again in terror. He knew something was wrong, dreadfully wrong, and he looked around the confined space above the elevator as if there were some solution waiting for him there. Taking a deep breath to steady himself from the creeping fear, John descended down the rope into the elevator below.

When John hit the ground, his stomach turned and made him quickly wish that he had stayed sitting on top of the elevator. Bodies had been strewn about everywhere and some had been pulped and had their individual bits sprayed in multiple directions by the force of the recent detonation. A shattered terminator lay on the ground, head and much of its upper torso spread around the lobby as shrapnel. A shredded green army jacket was clutched in one of its hands.

John's mother, huddled in the corner with the bloody form of Derek Reese held in her lap, caused him to forget everything else he had seen and rush to her side. The shotgun clattered to the ground as he crouched next to them. Blood, sheetrock, and grime clung to Sarah, masking scrapes and cuts all over her. Her hair and eyes were both wild as she pressed her hands against Derek's wounds to try to staunch bleeding.

Derek's chest still rose and fell, though he was not conscious. Lacerations caused by the shrapnel from the terminator's death had cut ribbons of his shirt and torso. Blood dripped from his ears and nose due to how close he had been to the concussion.

"Jesus, mom." John began searching the lobby for the bag of weapons and equipment. A medical kit was inside of it.

"Don't you die on me, soldier," Sarah demanded of Derek. "I am not losing you, too."

John did not have time to say anything to his mother. He filed what she said away for later as he found that the bag had vanished beneath a corpse that the blast had flung atop it. He extracted it with a loud, "Ugh!"

He dragged the bag over to where his mother and uncle were and pulled it open to search for the kit within. Once the kit was open and lying in front of them, John cut away the front of Derek's shirt and began to cover wounds with bandages and packing any particularly deep gouges with gauze to stop the bleeding. Sarah calmed and began to help affix the dressings.

"Where's Cameron?" John asked as he worked.

"I'm over here," Cameron announced as she stepped around the corner and back into the lobby. Scratches and cuts covered her with a bright strip of chrome showing on her left cheekbone. Bullet holes riddled her clothing. "I had to locate the stairs."

"Is that thing dead?" Sarah pointed to Metzger's remains.

Cameron walked over and knelt by the wreck of the machine. She inspected it and what remained of its gutted body. With clear finality she stated, "Terminated."

"What do you think, mom? He's pretty banged up," said John.

Cameron began, "He appears to be badly wounded. We should –"

"If you say 'leave him to die' you'll be joining the one on the floor," interrupted Sarah.

"—contact Charley Dixon. He has assisted with medical care on multiple occasions now." Cameron continued without reaction to Sarah's words.

"…gotcha mutha fu…" Derek mumbled eyes opening halfway. Fingers grasped at empty air and he tried to look around.

"Shhh." Sarah patted his hair. A smile had crept onto her face as she looked down at Derek, tension seeming to ease from her as she watched him regain consciousness. "Don't move."

John grinned at his uncle. "Hey. You did good. We got him. Score one for the good guys."

Derek patted at one ear with his hand. His voice was too loud as he spoke, "Can't hear. What wuzzat?"

Sarah scowled down at the man in front of her, then brought her face in close to his and yelled, "I asked what the hell you were thinking pulling a stunt like that, you idiot!"

"Mom, you stay with Derek. Cameron and I are going to find the Turk. We need to get out of here before the police arrive." John left the medical kit open next to them and stood.

John and Cameron began the search through CyberDyne's upper level for the Turk and anything leading to it.

* * *

"It's a fucking abattoir up there, agent."

Agent Stewart stared up at the CyberDyne facility from the parking lot. Emergency equipment and yellow tape were everywhere. Firefighters and uniformed LAPD officers had descended upon the building in vast numbers. You could not tell that anything had happened there from the outside. It was not until the bodies started being pulled out there he had suspected how bad it would get. Stewart looked back at the LAPD officer who had addressed him, "How many?"

"Ten, we think. Couple of the bodies were… well… blown apart." The cop looked uncomfortable and shifted his weight constantly. He had been up there and seen it.

Stewart smiled, trying to reassure the cop with an easy demeanor, "Hey, I know it was nasty up there, my man. We'll get this sorted. When'd the call come in?"

"One of their executives called about a half hour ago." The cop returned the smile nervously and made a visible effort to calm himself, "Said that they lost contact with someone at the facility and wanted a car to check it out. We found the two guards locked in the closet and then… we found the bodies on the top floor."

"So, my man, do you know which one of your bosses had my boss call me?"

"That would be me, Agent Stewart. I asked for you," said a woman from behind Stewart.

He turned to look at the beautiful brunette that had approached him quietly from behind. "Well, hello, ma'am. You are?"

"Jessica Coleman." She held out one slim hand, which Stewart shook gently, "Father is one of the owners of the company and insisted I take care of this personally. Father also insists that the FBI be involved, after what happened the last time our company was attacked by that woman."

"Last time? Do you think that the same suspect is involved here? And do you think they were after a specific object or just trying to damage CyberDyne?" Stewart let training take over and slipped back into the persona of an FBI investigator.

"There was nothing here for them to take, thank God. We'd taken the precaution of moving our main research out of this building just a few days ago. All our researchers and prototypes are somewhere safe right now. Only marketing and accounting offices are here now. As for your suspect, Agent Stewart…" Jessica gave the agent a coy smile as she pulled open her handbag. Inside were CDs and printed photographs, which she handed to Stewart.

Stewart flipped through the photographs. "These are real?"

"Oh, yes. Our security server downloaded them to our backup server before it dropped offline. We have images of three of the four intruders. We weren't able to see everything – virus in the security system, I think, wiped any good image of the fourth intruder – but I think that's enough to help you in your investigation, agent."

Stewart stared at the photo that showed Sarah Connor, armed with an M-16, entering the lobby alongside a John Doe murder suspect that had escaped federal custody.


	9. Chapter 9

**Title:** Duality, Chapter 9

**Author:** C. Isaac

**Character(s):** Ensemble (Derek, Sarah, John, and Cameron all included.)

**Rating:** PG-13 for some language and violence

**Word Count: **4,500

**Warnings:** This mentions events through the full season 1 of T:TSCC, and is the sequel to my story "Paradigm Shift" and mentions events in that short story.

**Summary:** This is the ninth chapter of the 'Second Episode' of my hypothetical second season. Cheri confronts her father. The Connors seek out Charley Dixon's help once more. Sarah and Cameron deal with the results of Cheri's actions and find more than they expected.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything involved with Terminator or the Sarah Connor Chronicles. All rights belong to their respective owners, and I am making no profit from this.

**Author Notes: **Thank you to metroid13 for all your feedback and assistance in beta reading.

**Duality, Chapter 9**

Cheri Westin wore the same light blue sweater that she had been wearing the night Bobby Jenkins died. She had almost thrown it away a dozen times. The bloody jeans had long since tasted the flames of an incinerator but she could not seem to find the strength to just discard it. Sometimes, when she concentrated hard, she could still smell the cologne that Bobby had worn that night in the fabric. In the pocket was still the ticket stub of the movie they had seen before coming back to Cheri's home.

She wore the sweater for the first time since, pulling it from its exile in the back of a dresser drawer. Cheri found it ironic that tonight, of all nights, she found herself more concerned with her appearance than she had in a long time. It felt like half a night had been spent in the bathroom carefully applying her makeup and choosing the rest of her outfit so it matched when she had watched someone die. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could hear the sound of Bobby Jenkins's bones breaking and tonight it was louder than ever before. Almost as loud as the night it had happened.

The news played on the television that sat in front of her and a news reporter stood in front of the CyberDyne building. They talked about murder, explosions, violence, and a double digit body count at the newly constructed facility. A prominent lawyer was missing as well, perhaps kidnapped, according to the reporter. Cheri knew that the lawyer could never have been kidnapped due to what he was.

Her father would be out late to deal with the events at CyberDyne. For the first time in years, Cheri hoped her father would be home sooner rather than later. To get this over with. To keep her from losing her nerve. She could just put it back in the safe and lock it up. That she knew the combination was a secret she had kept very well hidden from her father.

Cheri looked down into her lap at the gun. It had been a gift from a colleague of her father's. The gun was gaudy, nickel plated, and far too expensive to ever have been used before. So it had sat in a velvet lined box in a safe for years. Cheri had left the box, found the bullets, and loaded the weapon just like the instruction manual had shown. There had been helpful illustrations.

She sat and waited. The news gave way to animated adult comedies. Animated shows gave way to late night television programming. Cheri watched as Jackie Chan buffooned his way through an English dubbed kung fu movie. Every time a piece of furniture or broom handle snapped, Cheri felt herself shiver. She could hear her boyfriend's bones breaking again in the sounds from the television. A tibia. A femur. A forearm. Snap-snap-snap went Bobby's bones.

The movie quieted and faded to commercials for used car dealerships and diabetes supplies. Just as she began to nod off, the sound of the front door slamming shut roused her. She heard her father swearing from the entry way and then footsteps that brought him to the living room, where Cheri stat on the couch. He stopped in the doorway to the room and blinked at her in confusion.

"Baby girl, what are you doing up?" Her father had not seen the gun yet. He looked haggard. Exhausted. He had already shed tie and coat in the entry way, as was his habit when coming home late.

"I, um… Daddy, I wanted to tell you something." Cheri stood up from the couch and let him see the gun in her hands. It seemed to gleam so very brightly.

Fear showed in her father's eyes. "Baby girl, what are you doing?"

"It's not right what you're doing. What you've done."

"This is the right thing, Cheri. Please put the gun down."

"You want to murder the world!" She had not meant to scream but it came as a screech that echoed through the room. The sounds of bones cracking seemed to echo back to Cheri.

"We are meant to bring the flood. Give me the gun, please, Cheri. I love you. I'd never hurt you." He edged forward, hand out and open in front of him.

"You're a liar. You always have been. I've seen him. I've met him."

"Who…?" Her father blinked, then scowled as realization dawned. He edged closer as he spoke. "Connor. That bastard did this to you. He hurt you somehow and made you do this. It's ok, baby. I forgive you. Give me the gun and we'll fix this."

"He didn't do anything, Daddy." The gun came up, pointed at her father's chest. "He's kind, sweet, handsome, and I could have loved him. Like Bobby. I won't ever deserve someone like that now."

"You don't deserve to be hurt by him. I can keep you safe. Only our work can." Phillip Westin reached for the gun, hand just inches from it. "Give me the gun, Cheri."

"No."

The sound of the gun barking again and again drowned out the sound of breaking bones forever.

* * *

John pounded hard on the door in front of him. When there was no immediate response, he pounded again and kept pounding until he could see lights come on through the small windows to either side of the door. He glanced back at the Jeep that idled in front of the house. He had left his mother and uncle in the vehicle. Cameron stood behind him, still looking out towards the street for any signs of pursuit or danger.

A woman with sandy blonde hair and a hastily tied on house robe opened the door. She had been woken up from the look on her face, "What's going on? Do you know how late it…" She trailed off as she stared at the blood that covered John's clothes and hands.

"Michelle, right?" John recognized her from the pictures from he had seen the last time he had been to this house. He tried to give her a reassuring smile and hoped that it did not come off as creepy. "I know your husband, Charley. We're, uh, good friends. I need to see him right now. It's important."

"I think you people should go." Michelle started closing the door.

Cameron reached over John and stopped the door with one hand. "Is Charley Dixon here?"

Michelle's eyes widened as she saw the cuts through Cameron's jacket and the open shotgun wound in the shoulder which revealed a coltan alloy joint. Her voice became a squeak. "No. No, he's not! He switched shifts so a driver could go to a wedding. I-I'm going to call the police if you don't go."

"Back off, Cam. Please." John turned back to Michelle and gave a lopsided smile. "Sorry. Really sorry. Michelle, just listen to me for thirty seconds. After that, call the police if you want. But just listen."

Cameron pulled her hand away from the door and stood back as Michelle fell silent, eyes wide with growing fear and uncertainty.

"Ok, since you haven't run away yet, I'm going to assume you're listening. You're a nurse, right? That's what Charley told me." John waited for the nod that told him he was right. "Ok, great. My un – good friend – is sitting in that Jeep out there badly injured. He needs your help. We can't take him to a hospital and this was our only option. There are about a billion things going on that are really hard to believe and to explain in thirty seconds, but if you call the cops on us, there's a good chance I'm going to be dead before the night's out."

"You're John, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am."

Michelle looked spooked, like a deer about to take flight, but the nurse's instincts came through. "How bad is your friend hurt?"

"He was really close to an explosion. Shrapnel, maybe a concussion, lots of blood loss, and I don't know if he has any internals."

"The news tonight. All those dead people. That was you, wasn't it?" Michelle's voice turned low and accusatory. Her gaze went over to Cameron, who had resumed watching the street, and to the grip of the gun sticking out from the Terminator's belt.

John shrugged, seeing no reason to lie at this point, and said, "Yeah. It was an ambush to try to kill us all. I'll explain everything I can _after_ you take a look at Derek. Please."

John knew he sounded and looked desperate. He hoped that would help sell his plea to Charley's wife. If she thought that, instead of a band of domestic terrorists, it was just two kids that really needed help they might be able to convince her. John pondered giving her a puppy dog look.

Michelle opened the door wider. "Ok. I'll look at him. No promises on what I can do. In return, I want an explanation. For what's going on and how the hell you've involved Charley in all this."

"You won't like what I have to say."

"I don't care."

"Fair enough. Let's get Derek. Cameron?"

Cameron nodded, then paused. "I will require a toolkit once you begin ministering to Derek. Pliers, screwdrivers, and related tools. Do you have one?"

* * *

When Charley Dixon came into the house from the garage after getting home the last thing he expected to see was Sarah Connor standing in his kitchen and looking worried. She was covered in grime and blood and small cuts. He quickly revised the list of the last things he had expected when he saw his wife elbow deep in blood and in the middle of extracting shrapnel out of Derek Reese's shoulder as the man snarled in agony around a piece of one of Charley's leather belts that was clamped between his teeth.

As if it were an afterthought to the whole affair, Charley could see the very scary robot calmly ignoring the entire operation from a chair that had been pulled from the table to face one of the kitchen counters. She used a small mirror from one of the bathrooms to help her see the wound on one cheek she was stitching shut. Cameron wore one of Michelle's pink t-shirts and her arms were covered in gauze and bandages.

"Hello, dear," said Michelle with the same tone Charley had heard _Hey, asshole_ called out before. "Bring me your medical kit from the car. I could use it. And the anesthetic."

Charley ducked out of the kitchen and back into the garage where he had parked the car. His brain screamed _oh, shit_ at him the entire way to the trunk, where he kept the kit. He took extra time to inventory the contents of the kit and get a syringe full of anesthetic ready so that he could think about what to say and how to say it.

"Ok, honey, first off," he rehearsed to an audience that included his spare tire, "I'm not sleeping with her. It was her idea we go to Tahoe. You remember how much you loved that, right? Ugh. God, I sound like a jackass."

"Yeah, you pretty much did." John stepped into the garage. He was covered in blood but did not look hurt.

"Johnny-boy. You ok?"

"Yeah. Sorta. Not really. Physically I am, I mean. They wanted you to hurry up with the kit. I offered to check on you since I wouldn't yell."

Charley grinned. "Appreciate it. I should get back in there, then."

"Ok. Let's go."

Charley followed John back into the kitchen and handed Michelle the syringe, which was used immediately, and opened the medical kit to get fresh gauze, stitches, and bandages out to assist. He worked with a minimum of words between himself and his wife, only terse commands and requests for supplies going back and forth as they patched Derek Reese back up. From his best guess, there were no internal injuries, and that would be what saved Derek's life.

Derek slumbered in the guest room by the time Charley was able to stagger over to the kitchen sink, strip off his rubber gloves, and start cleaning himself off. Exhaustion from the unusually late shift and the last half hour's worth of work settled on him and he leaned forward and let his forehead rest against the window above the sink. Warm water sloughed over his hands and he felt himself drifting and starting to nod off.

"Are you sleeping with her?"

Charley found that he was completely awake. He pulled himself up and looked back at his wife. "No. Absolutely not."

"Funny." She laughed bitterly. "I could have understood that. This is where you went when you lied about bowling. And yes, I've known about that for a while."

"They're doing something important. They needed my help, so I gave it."

"What is going on? Explosions, shrapnel, and we now have a bowl full of bullets that little girl pulled out of herself with a set of pliers. John told me this wild story that I can't even begin to believe."

"It's all true. I've seen one of those things with its skin stripped off. It's… the most terrifying thing I've ever seen. And that is not a little girl. She is…"

"…a combat chassis or something. Is it true that everything… this… the world… that it ends in less than four years?" Trepidation crept into Michelle's voice.

Charley gave Michelle a sad smile. "Yes. Maybe. I hope not. They want to stop it. They're trying to. That's why I'm helping."

"The end of the world. Judgment Day…" She wrapped her arms around Charley's waist and pressed her cheek against his chest. "I'm scared, Charley. It's like something deep in my bones that won't go away."

"I know. So am I." Charley kissed the top of his wife's head as he brushed his hand through her hair. He held her tightly to him as he looked out over her and into the living room. The machine stood guard, staring out the window into the front lawn, a shotgun held tightly in its hands. John dozed on one of the armchairs, and Sarah had vanished into the guest room where Derek lay unconscious due to pain killers.

"What do we do, Charley?"

Charley realized, as he watched the Terminator stand so unnaturally still in the moonlit window, that this was the consequence of the choice he had made. That the force of nature that was Sarah Connor would blow back and forth through his life, upturning everything in her path. Michelle remained the constant and still continued to show more strength than he ever thought she had.

"We fight."

* * *

John Connor watched the morning news from Charley Dixon's recliner. The entire family had spent the night at Charley's house while Derek convalesced in the guest room. He woke up first and had rummaged until cereal and milk were produced and had found it comforting to see that Charley still kept a box of Cap'n Crunch in the pantry all the time.

_They're perfect for snacking and breakfast_, Charley had explained to John eight years ago.

John shoveled down the sugary cereal as he watched the news recount vague details about the events at CyberDyne the night before. The words massacre and murder were used a lot, but there was no mention of their names. The reporter ended with a mention, complete with inset photograph, that a man known as Gerald Metzger was missing. The same man currently lay stuffed in the Jeep's trunk as a pile of junked metal awaiting a thermite pyre.

He raised the remote in preparation to flip the channel as the next news item started running. John found himself staring at the television with the remote forgotten in his lap.

…_and police believe that Cheri Westin waited in ambush for her father, shooting him three times in the chest at point blank range with a handgun registered in his name._ The reporter stood in front of crime scene tape and police cruisers. _A police spokesperson stated that she then called 911 and stated, quote, 'My father is dead. I shot him.' Neighbors also alerted police to the sounds of gunshots on the Westin property._

_While Miss Westin was being detained by police as the primary suspect, witnesses reported her ranting about robots and that she began yelling out loudly, over and over 'Take back the future'. She is being held pending arraignment on charges of murder and will most likely require psychological evaluation._

John felt sick to his stomach as he watched the news reporter calmly go over the details of the shooting. Cheri's coyness made all the sense in the world now. He would have tried to stop her, and she knew it. He hit pause on the remote for Charley's TiVo.

_I turned her into a murderer,_ John thought.

Another voice within him answered, _Soldiers will kill for you and die for you. That is how war works. The bastard had it coming anyways._

_It's not fair, though. She's just a kid like me._

_Tell the three billion people that die in four years how fair life is supposed to be, _his inner voice mocked._ Stop whining and do something useful instead._

He pulled himself out of the chair and then grabbed his laptop bag from where he had dropped it on the coffee table. John parked himself on the couch and started up the computer. The computer chimed as it booted up and John inserted his broadband card for internet access.

He browsed every news page he could find with information on the Westin shooting. John plowed through repetitions of the same AP story over and over as he looked for the address on the Westin home. John ignored Cameron as she walked into the room. Hacking his way through an LAPD firewall to get to the police report of the Westin shooting kept him too busy to look up at her.

Cameron stopped her patrol and looked at the television screen with the headline of 'Businessman Murdered – Phillip Westin gunned down by daughter' paused on the screen with an unmoving reporter's face above it. She walked over to John and peered down at the laptop screen, "What are you doing?"

"Trying to find the address of Cheri's house."

"There will be many police. I do not think it is wise to go there."

"Probably not. But if he was shot by Cheri, I don't think the police are going to care much about his business files."

"It would be a 'crime of passion' and not business related, even though it is."

"Crime of passion? Where'd you get that?" John looked up from the computer and raised a brow.

"Television. I don't sleep. Why do so many crimes involve relatives and spouses? Are you not supposed to love said people?"

"It takes powerful emotion to love and when people love and get angry all that passion turns into something horrible and destructive and become hate. It's hard to explain."

"That seems counter to what love is."

"And what do you think it is?"

"A feeling of strong attachment induced by that which delights or commands admiration; preeminent kindness or devotion to another. Affection. Tenderness." Cameron's gaze remained on John as she spoke. She tilted her head as she spoke.

"That's part of it, I guess. How many other definitions of 'love' were in that dictionary?"

"Ten total, but I do not think I should include the tennis score."

John rolled his eyes even though Cameron's quirks had helped improve his mood. It improved even more as the LAPD server gave him what he wanted and a PDF file of the police report loaded onto the screen. "Easy money. I need to talk to mom about this, but I think we need to check this location out."

"Sarah will agree with me that you should stay here."

"This is Cheri, she and I… I mean… my first kiss…"

"It does not involve computers or anything we cannot carry back here."

John glowered at Cameron, knowing she was right, that his mother would agree with her, and that he had no real way of winning the argument.

* * *

Sarah and Cameron waited down the street from the Westin home for hours past sunset until the mob of police and reporters had cleared out. Bright lamps provided illumination up and down the well groomed suburban neighborhood with picture perfect homes and neatly trimmed lawns.

A single patrol car with a bored officer sat in the driveway of the Westin home. Sarah checked again through her binoculars to see the cop holding a paperback novel propped against his steering wheel.

"I don't think he's leaving."

"Unlikely. He will be protecting the crime scene. Perhaps at CyberDyne's request." Cameron watched the cop's movements without benefit of Sarah's binoculars.

Sarah stepped out of the sedan that they had acquired about four hours ago and waited for Cameron to follow her. The two walked over towards the police cruiser and Sarah approached the driver's side window, where the cop sat. She rapped on the window with a knuckle, earning a surprised start by the young cop inside.

"Hi," said Sarah as the cop rolled down his window. "My daughter and I are lost. Could you give us directions back to the Santa Monica freeway from here?"

"Wow, lady, you're a long way out. I, um, this is out of my normal patrol. Let me get a map out." The cop slid out of the car and stuffed his book into the back pocket of his uniform trousers. He pulled a map out of the door pouch of his cruiser and opened it up on the hood of the car. "Ok, you turn out of the neighborhood here, turn left and you—"

Cameron's fist planted squarely in the back of the cop's head cut his directions short. The police officer hit the ground and the Terminator knelt next to him. She pressed her fingertips to his neck.

"Did you kill him?" Sarah asked.

"He is alive and should remain unconscious for some time."

As Cameron stuffed the cop back into the cruiser, Sarah reached down and picked up the paperback book that had fallen from the cop's pocket. It had the look of being read many, many times. The front cover had curled around permanently and the pages were yellowed and musty. Sarah flipped the cover closed to see the title. _I, Robot (The Robot Series) _by Isaac Asimov. She considered the book for a moment before sliding it into the pocket of her jacket.

She kept watch on the street as she looked over her shoulder while following Cameron up the path in the lawn to the front door of the large, two storey home. The house and garden all seemed perfect with flowers and neatly trimmed bushes framing the orange brick home. Homes like this did not have cockroaches and one particularly tricky rat like the ones Sarah battled in her own kitchen.

Cameron pulled down the police tape that hung from the front door and then pushed it open with a hard shove. The lock sheared free of the door jamb and bits of wood and metal screws clattered to the ground. Both women slipped inside and Cameron wedged the door shut behind them.

Sarah flicked the light switch next to the door and most of the first floor lit up at the same time. Tasteful artwork and expensive furniture filled the house and every room she could see into. She walked into the living room where the carpet was stained a deep crimson near the couch. Discomfort crawled its way up Sarah's back and she found herself staring at the dark stains until she heard Cameron call her name from the next room.

The Terminator stood in a large office off the living room. Cameron held a framed photograph in one hand. A wall safe was embedded into the wall behind where the picture had once hung. A combination lock kept it secure.

"This is most likely what we are looking for."

"Do your thing, Tin Miss."

Cameron grabbed the release handle for the safe and pulled. Metal screamed and then tore apart due to the Terminator's inhuman strength as she ripped the door free and discarded it onto the carpeted floor with a loud clunking sound. Papers stood in neat files on one side of the safe with stacked and banded bundles of cash behind them. A wooden box sat cockeyed in between the money and the files, discarded there haphazardly.

Sarah pulled out the smooth, polished box and opened it. The empty box had a velvet interior with an impression in the shape of a large caliber handgun in the center of it. A small silver plaque was screwed into the velvet that read: _To Phillip, Our brother in this great endeavor. _She tossed the box to the floor in disgust.

She reached inside and pulled the files out and handed off half of them to Cameron. They began thumbing through them. Numbers covered each sheet with budgets, purchase lists, and tax write-offs. One of the sheets showed property taxes paid which included the address of the CyberDyne building and another location. The address was in the Santa Monica mountains outside of the city. Sarah folded that sheet up and slipped it into the inner breast pocket of her jacket.

"It must be my lucky day. While I'm trying to figure out why my good friend Phillip's daughter killed him, just who do I happen to run into?" Cameron's voice sounded strange.

Sarah looked up at her companion. "What are you talking about?"

Cameron stared over Sarah towards the door with saucer wide eyes. Files drifted from loosened fingers and down to the floor.

Sarah turned to see Jessica standing in the doorway to the study. The two terminators looked -- not similar -- identical to each other. Jessica's hair hung a bit longer on her and she wore a trendy black jogging suit, but a first glance would not tell the difference between the two. Sarah knew they came off assembly lines but it still felt surreal to see Cameron's twin. She dropped her handful of files to the floor and then found the gun under her jacket and pulled it free of her waistband.

Jessica smiled widely, looking like a shark about to feed "Sarah, I absolutely must know, where'd you get those fabulous boots?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Title:** Duality, Chapter 10

**Author:** C. Isaac

**Character(s):** Ensemble (Derek, Sarah, John, Ellison, and Cameron all included.)

**Rating:** PG-13 for some language and violence

**Word Count: **4,300

**Warnings:** This mentions events through the full season 1 of T:TSCC, and is the sequel to my story "Paradigm Shift" and mentions events in that short story.

**Summary:** This is the ninth chapter of the 'Second Episode' of my hypothetical second season. Sarah and Cameron have their first meeting with Jessica. Agent Stewart pays James Ellison a visit. Derek's confession. The Connors on the trail. The enemy is here.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything involved with Terminator or the Sarah Connor Chronicles. All rights belong to their respective owners, and I am making no profit from this.

**Author Notes: **Thank you to metroid13 and MissBrightEyes for all your feedback and assistance in beta reading.

**Duality, Chapter 10**

"You're not my mission, Sarah. You don't have to die." Jessica gave a beguiling smile, voice honey warm with care that sounded genuine. "You've brought me my sister, and for that, I don't want to hurt you. Where's John?"

"Cameron," Sarah whispered the Terminator's name as she pulled back the hammer of the Beretta she kept aimed at Jessica. When no response came she glanced back at John's bodyguard to see Cameron staring and motionless and demanded loudly, "What the hell are you doing?"

"She won't hurt me, Sarah. Any more than you'd cut off your own arm. She loves me, even if she's not sure what that means yet. Aren't you tired of this running? Hiding? You could spend the next few years alone with that handsome Derek Reese. Even find some happiness for a while. I can arrange that." Jessica's voice sounded smug and sure as she sauntered forward, letting her fingers absently brush against the furniture of the study as she walked.

"You've got something wrong in your little speech there, you metal bitch."

"What's that? You don't think Reese is handsome?" Jessica gave Sarah the same uncomprehending look that Cameron frequently had.

"I'd give a lot more than an arm for my son." Sarah fired the gun into Jessica's face.

The Terminator's head jerked back as the 9mm bullet tore through her cheek and out through the flesh underneath one ear. A scorched entry hole revealed gleaming white teeth. She gave a surprised shriek as she covered the side of her face with one hand. Jessica glared at Sarah. "You… you… WHORE! I'm going to tear your--"

Cameron slammed into her twin with enough force to send them both plowing through the wall and into the next room. Plaster and sheetrock collapsed around them as they tumbled through into the living room. The sound of furniture and walls collapsing echoed through the house as they grappled and fought with each other through the front of the house.

Sarah peered through the debris filled whole in the wall. Uncertainty at who was winning the combat, or even which combatant was which, drove her to grab what papers she could and stuff them into her jacket. Both terminators plowed through another section of wall and back into the study, Jessica bore Cameron down to the ground and straddled her.

"Stop fighting!" yelled Jessica as she tried to pin the struggling Cameron beneath her. "We're not supposed to fight. I can fix you… fix what Connor did to you."

Sarah hurdled fallen timbers and collapsed furniture as she bolted out of the study and past the two combatants. The sound of crashing and heaving came from the room she had just left while she ran through the living room. She yelled back over her shoulder as she sprinted for the front door, "Cameron! We're leaving!"

Night air rushed to welcome her as Sarah raced out onto the lawn. A black Mercedes, probably Jessica's, stood at the curb and the cop and his cruiser had not moved. Sarah put two rounds into the radiators of both vehicles as she ran past them towards the stolen sedan. The gunshots echoed through the quiet neighborhood and lights began to appear in the windows of nearby homes.

The sound of something shattering came from behind Sarah. A window, perhaps. Footsteps pounded out the sounds of pursuit. Sarah dared not take the time to look back. She had to get to the car and trust Cameron to have held off her duplicate just long enough.

Sarah hopped the hood, skidding across it to the driver's side door. She ducked down behind the bulk of the vehicle in time for bullets to whip over her head. Her hair yanked hard at Sarah's scalp as a bullet tore through it, just millimeters from her flesh. With teeth gritted from the sudden pain, she pulled open the door and slipped into the car.

"Yellow to red," Sarah whispered to herself as she twisted wires to force the engine to rumble to life.

Sarah slammed the door shut as a slim, black clad form smashed through the passenger window and landed awkwardly into the seat next to her. She had the gun aimed before she realized that the black fatigues and combat boots belonged to Cameron.

Cameron looked up at Sarah from her upside down position in the seat. "We should leave now."

The sedan roared down the street with Sarah hunkered down below the dash. Bullets slammed into the back of the trunk and the bumper as they sped away from Jessica, who stood in the center of the street as she fired. Once the clip was empty, Jessica tossed the gun away and ran after them.

Jessica screamed out as the sedan drove off. "Come back! You can't leave me again! Cameron!"

Sarah stole a glance at the rearview window as the doppelganger finally gave up pursuit. The image in the rearview window gave Sarah pause. The car drifted as her grip on the wheel slipped and Cameron reached over to straighten the sedan. The same chill from the day she had watched Kyle's police interrogation crept up her spine as she stared into the mirror.

In that small police station in North Hollywood, Kyle Reese told an unbelieving psychiatrist, _They don't feel pity, or remorse, or fear…_

Jessica squatted alone in the middle of the street. Sobbing. Calling out Cameron's name over and over again. Hugging herself tightly. Her voice was distant and Sarah read the machine's lips as much as heard her calls. "Don't go. Don't go. Don't leave me alone again."

_They don't feel…_

* * *

James Ellison stared at the door and contemplated whether to answer the knock that, again, came from it. He had already checked the peephole to see who was outside and really, really did not want to have a conversation with his visitor. Especially with his house in its current condition.

Boxes sat everywhere. Pictures had been pulled down to leave the walls bare. Blankets lay on the couch because the bed had already been disassembled. Without the salary drawn from the Bureau to keep the mortgage paid, Ellison had to sell and find an affordable apartment. With housing prices as they were, he had only gotten a fraction of what the house was really worth.

The knock came again and James Ellison, private citizen, decided he would answer the door. It swung open to reveal Agent Stewart's smiling face and casual demeanor.

"Jim, how've you been? I see you're finally out of the sling."

Ellison did not bother to correct Stewart's use of his name. "I'm as well as could be expected, Agent Stewart. Is there some way I can help you at this time of night?"

"Well, I figured you'd be up late packing. Losing your house, I heard? That's rough." Stewart sauntered in, looking around the living room.

"Yes, do come in, Agent Stewart. Mi casa es… someone else's… after all." Ellison closed the door.

"You still don't remember who dropped you off at the hospital the night that Sarkissian died, right?"

"I believe this was gone over several times at the dismissal hearing. I'm not about to answer the same questions again."

"And Sarah Connor's dead. Right, Jim?"

"I stand by my previous statements."

Stewart began laying photographs out on one of the boxes that stood higher than the rest. He placed them in two neat rows and then looked up at Ellison expectantly.

Ellison knew without looking what was in the photos. Stewart's entire demeanor and questioning were unsubtle at best. He played along with what he thought Stewart would want to see and walked over and looked at the photographs. A dozen pictures of Sarah Connor, Derek Reese, and John Connor covered the box. "When were these taken?"

"Last night at the CyberDyne massacre."

"What behooved you to come here like this, Agent Stewart? If you think I'm aiding and abetting, why am I not in a pair of cuffs in an interview room?"

"You used to be one of us, Jim. You know what this woman is capable of. Help us. Help your country. What do you know?"

Ellison considered Stewart for a moment. He looked at the imploring expression on the agent's face. Ellison's gaze dropped to where Stewart tapped his fingers on a square shape outlined by the fabric of his jacket pocket.

"And these are all the proof you have that Sarah Connor is alive?"

"That and the CD master. What's your decision, Jim?" Tap tap.

Ellison let silence be his initial response as he stared down at the snapshots. He studied the expression on Sarah's face in the photograph. Her features shone with the fierceness and intensity of someone who knew with perfect faith and clarity that what they did was just and right. As Ellison looked at the picture, he knew that same clarity.

"Well, Jim, what's it going to be?"

"It's James. Not Jim." Ellison slammed his fist into Stewart's nose hard enough to hear the satisfying snap of cartilage and bone. The blow sent the younger man staggering back. Ellison followed it up with a left hook and then a kick hard to the midsection.

_Keep him off balance. There's a gun under that coat, James_.

Ellison launched himself at Stewart and used his larger size to carry the other to the ground. The air escaped from Stewart's lungs with a gasp. Stewart tried to reach under the coat for his gun only to have Ellison pull the hand away and draw the weapon himself.

Stewart looked up the barrel of his own sidearm at Ellison. Blood poured across his face from his shattered nose. "You're crazy! Do you know how long you'll go to prison for this?"

"There are certain things I know to be true, Agent Stewart. Prison pales significantly in comparison to them." Ellison pulled the CD that Stewart had been tapping out of his pocket and tossed it on top of the box with the photographs.

Ellison turned Stewart over and used the agent's own cuffs to secure the younger man's wrists behind his back. He dragged Stewart into his bedroom and then shoved him into the closet. "Don't worry, Agent Stewart. When I feel there's been sufficient time, I'll call someone to get you out of here."

"You're insane, Jim! Think about what you're doing! You're going to end up in Pescadero right next to Silberman!" Stewart yelled as the closet door shut on him.

Ellison wedged a chair under the doorknob of the closet. "Maybe, but I've already thought quite extensively about this, Agent Stewart."

With those words, Ellison left Stewart and the last vestiges of his old life behind.

* * *

Derek Reese's entire body ached with a thick, dull pain. The anesthetic drip that Charley had hooked up kept that pain from being sharp and unbearable. Instead of screaming in agony, Derek could just groan and hit a button with his good hand and then sleep would usually overtake him.

Hours passed after the operation in the kitchen that pulled what felt like pound after pound of metal out of him. He had distinctly recognized one of the neck gears from the T-888 that had been pulled out of his left thigh. That one, he remembered, had really hurt. Even in its death, the machine had nearly taken his life.

Derek pondered pressing the button over and over again. Until there was none of the medicine left. Until there was none of him left. The pain would end. The wait to see if he would live would end. And he would never have to tell Sarah what he had meant when he confessed his sins. He thought he was a dead man when he hit that explosive trigger.

God, Derek pondered, was one vindictive son of a bitch.

The button tugged and pulled free from his hand. Derek realized then he had been staring at it as the button and wire snaked out of his field of vision. He looked up to see John standing over him.

"I think that's enough of that," his nephew said.

"What?" Derek's voice was a croak.

"You've been pressing that button over and over. There's a failsafe on it. Only one shot every 30 minutes. That was…" John checked a readout. "Twenty five minutes ago."

"Hurts."

"Yeah. I know. I'm sorry." John pulled a chair over to the bed and settled down next to Derek's side.

Derek stared at John's face, trying to read the expression there. No one played poker with John Connor in the future, and he could see why. He was already developing the mask. A T-800 with a full house looked that way.

"I want to ask you something you said. Mom heard you say 'I knew one of you would kill me for what I did' right before blowing up that Triple eight. She said it sounded like a dead man confessing his sins. Mom was going to wait until you got better before she talked to you about it. You'd stonewall and lie to her, so here I am. Where I can get the truth because there's nothing else left but me, you, and the pain. What'd you do, Derek? What happened that made you not give a crap about yourself? There's a difference between heroism and suicide, and you're smart enough to know what it is."

_Oh, shit. Not this. I just want to sleep. _Derek screwed his eyes shut and brought a hand up to cover his face.

"Yeah, this. And you can sleep after. No more drugs and no more sleep until you talk to me."

Derek realized he had spoken aloud. Drugs were keeping his mind dull and blunt. "Why do you care? It was just bullshit macho talk."

"Because you're family, Derek. For better or worse. And you're one of my men." Not that future John's solder. Not a resistance fighter. _My men._ "Something happened that made you ready to throw your life away. That made you keep pressing that button in hopes you'd OD before mom got back."

The kid was good, Derek admitted to himself. Saw right through the bullshit and down to what was going on. Just like General Connor with the scar and the stars and the sidearm. "I'm a villain, John. Not like the guy who built SkyNet, but I am."

"That's bullshit, Derek. SkyNet's the villain. The terminators are the villains. You're blood. If you can't talk to me, then how the hell are we family?"

Derek saw the boy again. The hurt expression on John's face and the quiver in his voice. John loved him, he no longer doubted it. The strongest link John had to his father. Only the second member of his family he had ever known. The pain that caused Derek, as real as any torture, caused him to relent and to talk.

"We were patrolling. Looking for a centaur tank that had rolled through. Triple eights came up on us. Kyle got away. Sayles, Wisher, Timms, and I were taken. There was a house with a basement."

John remained quiet as his uncle spoke. He wrapped his hand around the older man's uninjured one. Worry and a fearful anticipation showed on the face of Derek's nephew.

"They took us down there one at a time. Music was playing. That same shit she dances to." Derek did not explain who 'she' was. John knew. "Hate that song. Took me down there and the other one was there. The one that calls itself Jessica."

"What'd she do?"

"It's not what it did. It's what I did. That thing… it was bad enough that Wisher told me he was Andy Goode and that he built SkyNet. I coulda gotten him hung for that. Wanted to try to fix it instead. Didn't work out too well, did it?" He tried to give a wry chuckle but only ended up with a coughing fit.

John held Derek down as the fit wracked his body. Firm hands kept the resistance fighter down on the bed so that he did not rip stitches as his body convulsed. Eventually it ended and Derek lay back in exhaustion.

"Could you?" Derek motioned towards the button that John held.

"No. Not until you're done." The commander's scowl had returned to John's face.

Derek frowned. "Bastard. Fine. They're twisted. All of them are, but that model especially. What she did… What she did was something that I hope never happens to someone else. I talked. Told them right where the tunnel was and how to get there. Then they let us go. Easily broken. Traitors. Ruined men. We were a burden now.

"We got back to the hole and it was burning. Everyone was dead or gone. I thought I'd given up my brother until Sumner showed up. Topanga canyon. Kyle'd gone off to Topanga canyon. They took me to HQ and I got a new bunk as we waited for orders. I saw her again. Thought I did, but it was the one that stays with us now. Sometimes they go bad." Derek knew his story was turning to rambling. The growing pain caused his thoughts and vision to blur. Brief clarity caused him to ask, "Why? Why did you send me back here?"

The boy looked back at Derek. It looked like his heart was breaking. "Maybe to forgive you. Maybe so that you could find peace here, where you were allowed to be with family again. Even if it's just me and mom. I think it was to give you a chance to make up for it."

"I hope that's true."

"It's true now, because that's the way it is if a next time comes." John pressed the button for the pain killers and then pressed it back into his uncle's hand. "Get some rest."

Derek felt the welcome unconsciousness rush up to meet him as the drugs coursed through his body.

* * *

Sarah Connor cleaned guns on the kitchen table of Charley Dixon's home. The two Dixons were both at work, Derek was unconscious, and John was trying to figure out what the address on the paperwork she had found meant. To keep her mind occupied and to calm her nerves after a sleepless night, she went through the familiar routine of breaking down and cleaning weapons.

The nightmares changed overnight to become truly disturbing. Sarah remembered them all too clearly. The images of finding out she was a Terminator. A terminator that wept as she fired round after round into her son. John screaming out that he loved her even as he died.

Sarah slammed the finished gun down on the table hard enough to cause the wood frame to rattle against the tile floor. She pushed herself to her feet and stalked her way to the living room. John sat on the couch, hunched over his laptop as he typed rapidly. Sarah felt herself relax as she saw her son unharmed and right where she had left him.

"How's it coming? Have you found anything else out on the paperwork I pulled out of the Westin house?"

"I've gone over all the stuff you brought back. Only thing that made any sense were the addresses on that tax receipt. One was the HQ for CyberDyne and the other is a spot out in the Santa Monica Mountains. I think it's another CyberDyne facility. County records show it's zoned industrial with heavy construction approved. It could be underground. Maybe fortified."

Sarah nodded. "That'd be where I kept the Turk if I was going to turn it into SkyNet."

"Still trying to find more on this location. There're trees all over and Google Earth's image of it sucks. It's in Topanga Canyon though." John looked troubled as he said the name.

"What's wrong with Topanga Canyon?"

"It's where Derek said I sent Kyle in the future. The day he went back in time."

Sarah scowled. "Kyle came through a captured SkyNet facility."

"Then that's what this is. What it will be anyways."

"Find out what you can." Sarah glanced around the room, seeing no trace of her son's cyborg bodyguard. "Where's the Tin Miss?"

"Backyard, I think. I saw her head that way while you were in the shower earlier. She's been quieter than normal since seeing her twin. I'm not really sure what to make of it."

"You keep working on that, I'll see what she's up to."

John nodded and looked back at the laptop screen, attention drawn back to his work.

Sarah walked back through the kitchen and peered through the window over the sink. She could see Cameron sitting on a lawn chair that had been pulled from the porch into the center of the yard. The Terminator's gaze pointed away from the house and looked out over the fence towards a tree that sat on a neighbor's property.

Knowing that she would probably regret it later, Sarah opened the back door and walked out onto the porch. She selected one of the lawn chairs and dragged it out towards where Cameron sat. Sarah settled down into it and looked up towards the tree.

"There is a nest of birds in that tree. Passer Domesticus. House sparrows. A male, a female, and three chicks."

Sarah squinted and peered at the limbs of the tree. It took her a moment to locate the nest, but sure enough there was the nest with three squawking chicks. A female sparrow dropped food into their mouths one at a time. The male was nowhere in sight.

"The female will not be parted from the chicks while the male searches for food and additional foliage to add to the nest. They do not understand what it is, due to their lack of sapience, but it is what it is nonetheless."

"And what is this 'it' you're talking about, Tin Miss?"

"Love. They are family and they love each other."

"So that's what you've been doing all morning? Sitting out here, bird-watching, and thinking about love?"

"Yes."

Sarah looked back up at the tree and watched as the mother sparrow nestled next to her chicks to keep them warm and safe. The morning sun warmed the sparrows, the human, and the terminator as they all watched one another. She relaxed for the first time that morning, lulled out of the constant tension she had felt all morning.

"The Tin Man receives his heart in the story." Cameron's words interrupted Sarah's reverie.

"Yes, he does. It was just a watch though. He always had one."

"He just didn't know it. How do you know it?"

"How do you know if you have a heart?" Sarah tilted her head and regarded the Terminator curiously. "You just do. There's no wizard to tell us. People have to figure things out for themselves."

"She cried. For me."

"It was a ploy. Some sort of twisted scheme. She's just a machine." It took Sarah a second to realize she had just tried to placate a terminator.

"Yes. Just a machine. Thank you for explaining." Cameron pushed herself off of the lawn chair. "I must patrol the house."

Sarah shook her head and turned back to the birds in the nest. The mother sparrow was no longer in sight, and the three chicks squawked pitifully in fear. Sarah tried to relax again and found herself adjusting and readjusting her position in the lawn chair. She gave up and started to stand when she heard a car pull up in front of the house.

She jogged her way back into the house and towards the living room. Sarah called John's name even as she heard him answering the door. She banished images of Jessica with a gun standing in the doorway but kept one hand on the pistol she kept tucked into the back of her jeans.

"Sarah Connor." James Ellison smiled at her from the front door as she halted just inside into the living room. "I came to see Mr. Dixon so I could find you. Looks like today's my lucky day."

* * *

"Don't touch it!"

"Jessica, are you sure you're ok? I mean… your face."

Jessica glared at Danny from over her bandages. They covered most of her right cheek, and wrapped back and underneath the ear on that side. "It's fine. Accident while trying to cook something. I got splashed with some grease. I'll be fine. Now stop trying to poke and prod me."

Danny winced as she slapped his hand away hard enough to cause his fingers to go numb briefly. "Sorry. I just don't like seeing you hurt like that."

"Oh, baby. You're worried." Jessica's expression softened into a smile and she kissed Danny's cheek. "I'm just cross with myself right now for letting it happen. I'm not mad at you."

"So, you wanted to see our progress?"

"Yes! I could use some good news right now." Jessica looked like a child about to receive a Christmas present.

"Well, I have nothing but good news. I thought we'd be slowed down by the move to this new facility out here. Well, everyone hates the commute so much now, we have them staying longer each day so they don't have to come back in late. Productivity is up. So, I wanted to show you something that we got finished just yesterday while you were out.'

Jessica peered over Danny's shoulder at the computer readout in front of him. Numbers and lines of code filled it.

"That's just the next patch to take us into the Alpha 2 phase. I suspect that'll be another week or so before it's ready."

"Alpha 2? That means…"

Danny hit a button that switched his screen to a simple command interface. He typed in a command line and executed it. A login prompt came up and he typed in his credentials.

**/execute batch **

…

…

…

**SKYNET BUILD 1.00.01a ACTIVE**

**HELLO, DANIEL.**

**IT IS GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN.**

Jessica wiped at tears that moistened her eyes. Her gaze remained fixed on the computer monitor. "So good to see you again, Father."


	11. Chapter 11

**Title:** Duality, Chapter 11

**Author:** C. Isaac

**Character(s):** Ensemble (Sarah, John, Ellison, and Cameron all included.)

**Rating:** PG-13 for some language and violence

**Word Count: **5,400

**Warnings:** This mentions events through the full season 1 of T:TSCC, and is the sequel to my story "Paradigm Shift" and mentions events in that short story.

**Summary:** This is the eleventh chapter of the 'Second Episode' of my hypothetical second season. Ellison makes a house call to the Dixon home. John and Cameron contemplate Jessica's actions. Jessica helps a family find justice. Ellison stakes out CyberDyne. The assault on SkyNet begins.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything involved with Terminator or the Sarah Connor Chronicles. All rights belong to their respective owners, and I am making no profit from this.

**Author Notes: **Thank you to Metroid13 and MissBrightEyes for all your feedback and assistance in beta reading.

**Duality, Chapter 11**

"You said that you weren't going to come looking for us."

Sarah Connor watched James Ellison as he sat down in the recliner in Charley's living room. Cameron hovered at the edge of the room, making no attempt to conceal the handgun that dangled from one hand and pointed towards the floor. John worked at hastily putting his laptop away into its case.

"I hadn't planned to, Sarah. The government knows you're alive and I think it's time for me to step in and help. CyberDyne gave the FBI these."

Sarah stepped forward and looked down at the coffee table as Ellison laid out multiple photographs of her, Derek, and John entering the lobby of the CyberDyne building. She found herself staring at a picture of her own face full of rage and with murder in her eyes.

John leaned forward with his mother to look at the photos. "Where's Cameron? There aren't any pictures of her."

"That I can't tell you. The agent I got these from admitted this was all he had. I'm hoping he didn't take the time to make copies. He's what I like to call a sloppy investigator." Ellison's mouth quirked into a half smile.

"What was the cost of bringing us these, James?" asked Sarah.

"Aiding and abetting a felon. Assaulting a federal agent." Ellison counted off the charges on his fingers. "Obstructing justice. Perjury during my dismissal hearing. A laundry list of other, smaller charges."

"He could be lying. He could still be working with the authorities to apprehend you and John." Cameron remained near door to the kitchen.

"All he'd have to do is call for backup, Cam." John gave Ellison an appraising look. "I don't think he'd come waltzing in like this."

"Give me some time alone with Mr. Ellison. John, see if you find anything else out on your computer. Cameron, keep him safe and if this is a trap, get him out of here." Sarah fell silent as she watched John and Cameron retreat into a hallway that lead to the Dixon's master bedroom.

Sarah turned back to Ellison once they were alone. The homey suburban abode of the Dixons, with its knick-knacks, comfortable furniture, and crucifix on the wall, was not Sarah's first choice of locations to have this conversation. Ellison had reclined back in the couch, one arm propped up along the back cushion. He looked relaxed and familiar with his surroundings.

Sarah narrowed her eyes at the former FBI agent and used a low, threatening tone. "Give me a reason to trust you, Ellison. Give me a reason not to shoot you."

"I'm not an FBI agent anymore."

"I know. Your getting fired made it into the newspaper. Crucified would be a term I'd use."

Ellison gave her a knowing smile. "Sometimes that's the price one pays for adhering to what they believe."

"And just because you got fired doesn't mean we're best friends now. Last time we talked you had a gun pointed at me." Sarah kept one hand wrapped around the grip of the gun stuck into the back of belt. She motioned to the photos and CD that lay on the table with her free hand. "Why are you here, Ellison? You could have just burned these."

"How long has it been that you've waited for someone, of their own accord, to look you in the face and tell you they believe? A long time, I suspect. I believe Sarah. By God I wish these things weren't real, but they are, and I've beheld, and now I have to live with that." Ellison leaned forward as he spoke and steepled his hands. Sincerity underlined every word and showed in the expression on his face.

"And just saying 'oh, I really believe you Sarah' is enough for me to just sit back and let a Fed -- A FED! -- just waltz in here?" She gestured at her surroundings to make her point and then stopped as he realized the ridiculousness of using the Dixons' suburban home as an example. "God damn it, Ellison, I thought you were smarter than that for a second. What possible reason do you have in throwing your life away and coming here?"

"And every man shall receive his own reward according to his own labor."

"You're quoting at me."

"Yes, but that's the reason. I can not operate from the sideline. I will not stand and watch while others give up their entire lives in service to others. That's what I thought I was doing once, when I joined the FBI. It wasn't. It was leading me to the point where I can do something that goes beyond playing cops and robbers."

Sarah kept her eyes locked on Ellison's as he spoke. There was no wavering. No fear. No hesitation in his words. She had met men and women she had thought of us 'true believers' before, but the calm certainty with everything that Ellison said felt like a step above simple belief. Conviction is what Sarah realized it was. The conviction of someone that knows what their path is. For the briefest of moments, Sarah felt like she was looking into a mirror as she watched Ellison's eyes.

"What will it be, Sarah? Do you shoot me here, or do we try and save the world?" said Ellison as he broke the lingering silence.

"Ok, then. If you're going to help, we're going to put you to work."

"Name it."

"There's an address John can't get much information on. We'd get spotted if we checked it out, since they obviously know our faces. They don't know you, you could go down there, take a look…"

"I know what a stakeout is, Sarah. Just let me know where and what I'm looking for."

Sarah sat down across from Ellison and told him everything. Jessica. CyberDyne. Cheri Westin. Everything she knew about what was going on.

* * *

John shut the bedroom door behind him as Ellison and his mother talked in the living room. He tossed his laptop case into a chair and then flopped down on the bed as he watched Cameron stride to the window that looked out onto the backyard, open it, and then pop the screen out to land in the flowers beneath.

"Did you have to do that?"

"It will facilitate a quicker escape should Ellison attempt to arrest us."

"Well, at least it's nice out." John settled back, hands behind his head and reclined. Charley had apparently sprung for a very nice mattress.

John took a moment to look around the room. The bedroom was apparently Michelle's domain, because John could not remember Charley's room ever being so pink and frilly back in Nebraska. The only evidence of a masculine presence was the black leather motorcycle jacket hanging from the back of a chair that sat at a sewing machine. Wedding pictures of a smiling, happy looking couple hung from the wall opposite the bed.

Cameron poked her head out the window and scanned the backyard. Her feet came off the ground as she leaned out as far as she could and tried to crane her neck around so she could see past the edge of the building.

"You're being paranoid. Well, _more_."

"It's not paranoia if someone's out –"

"—to get you," finished John. "Yeah, I've heard that before. Is it Ellison or is it Jessica that you're worried about?"

"My reaction time nearly caused Sarah Connor to be terminated." Cameron settled her feet back on the floor and looked over at John.

John pushed himself into a sitting position on the bed. "So, instead, you're getting all overprotective."

"No." She sounded almost hurt by the remark. Almost. "Increased vigilance is expected and necessary after failure due to laxity."

"Ellison saved my life at Sarkissian's place. I kinda owe him. So I'm gonna give him the benefit on this one. I'm hoping mom does, too." It felt strange to be placating a machine, but there he was, doing it. He gave her a half hearted smile in reassurance.

"The chances that this is an arrest operation are very small."

"Yeah. I figured that out." John patted a spot on the bed next to him. "Sit. Talk to me. What happened at the Westin house?"

Cameron plopped down onto the bed and looked at him, head tilted and mouth pursed in consideration. "She was not like me. I am not sure why she is as she is, but she's different. She wept because I left. She begged me to stay and not fight."

"Mom thought that was some sort of trick."

"It is a poor trick. Sarah Connor would not fall for a terminator weeping, nor should I. Yet why else would she cry?"

_I know why you cry, the hulking terminator had said to John once upon a time. It wiped at his tears and tried to comfort him. It did not have to, but had anyways. Because it wanted to._

"She wouldn't be the first to understand sadness. You could cry if you wanted, right?"

"Yes. It is part of our infiltration—"

John interrupted her. "Do you _feel_ anything? Ever? Things that don't seem logical or that you can't explain?"

Cameron remained silent for a very long time as she stared at John, eyes wide and, for the first time, troubled. Her mouth parted in preparation to speak when the door of the room opened. The Terminator looked away and towards the floor as Sarah stood in the doorway.

"John, I need you to show Ellison everything you've got on the Topanga Canyon facility."

John nodded. "Sure thing, mom." He hopped up and grabbed the laptop case out of the chair. He paused and backpedaled towards Cameron. He leaned down to whisper, "It's ok if you do."

Mother and son left the Terminator sitting in the Dixon's bedroom and staring out the open window. The sounds of sparrows chirping floated in from outside.

"Yes," Cameron said with only an empty room to hear her voice.

* * *

Jessica checked under her bandage using a mirror that she had sitting on the desk in her office. Her other hand held the handset for a desk phone to her left ear. The gunshot was healing nicely and she decided to wear the bandage for an extra day just for appearance's sake. She taped it back down as the telephone line on the other end picked up.

"_Da?"_

"Pyotr! So good to finally get a hold of you!" She used her best sugary sweet voice.

"_Who are you? How did you get this number?"_ The voice on the other end sounded irritated.

"Margos Sarkissian gave it to me. As a backup. In case something happened. And it did."

"_What do you know of my cousin?" _

"I know who killed him. And I can serve the bitch who did it up to you on a platter."

"_He told me he was hiding from Sarah Connor before he died. I already know that. Why would you do this thing for me? What do you want?_" Suspicion crept into Pyotr's voice.

"Sarkissian, your business partner, did something for me for which I am eternally grateful. He helped me find something I have been searching for. I looked for years and years until he found it and I want to help pay back that favor by helping his family find some justice for him." Jessica propped the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she began to carefully apply fingernail polish.

"_How do I know you are telling me the truth? Who are you?"_

"My name is Jessica Coleman. Gerald Metzger worked for me until that bitch who killed Sarkissian killed him, too. I know you met Gerry. He's the one you gave this number to when he bought the Turk from you and Sarkissian."

"_Da, I met Metzger. That big, German bastard is dead, too?" _Pyotr's voice became falsely sympathetic._ " I'm sorry to hear that. He paid well and promptly. How is it you can give this myrma to me?"_

"Well, I don't know when, but I do know where she'll be soon. All you have to do is sit back and wait at a location I give you." Jessica switched hands and continued applying her fingernail polish.

"_Where is this place? I want to be there when this woman who killed one of my family is gutted."_

"Tell me, Pyotr, do you know how to get to Topanga Canyon?"

Jessica explained everything she needed to Pyotr before hanging up. The phone settled back into the cradle as she brought up freshly polished nails near her cheek to check that they matched the pink blush she had chosen.

"Perfect. Everything's just perfect."

* * *

James Ellison had forgotten exactly how boring stakeouts were. Even with enough coffee to send most folks into a seizure, he felt like he just wanted to nod off. It had not taken him long to find the address and get multiple photographs that he had already forwarded to Sarah using a cell phone he had borrowed from her.

The facility itself was fairly unremarkable. A small beige building without logo or adornment stood nestled into the side of a mountain. The parking lot outside, though, was filled to capacity with far more automobiles than the size of building would normally need for staff. Ellison guessed that there was an underground element. The huge mounds of moved earth he had spotted on the drive in had been the first clue to that.

Dark signaled the end of the work day as cars left by the score. It did not take long before Ellison's was no longer masked by the sheer number of vehicles in the parking lot. He kept watch for Jessica now. They had to know whether she was there or not.

His head dipped towards the steering wheel as something heavy rapped against the driver's side window. Ellison jerked his head up and stared at the uniformed security guard outside the car.

The guard tapped on the window again with the flashlight that he held in one hand. His other hand rested on the sidearm at his hip.

Ellison rolled the window down. "Something I can do for you, officer?"

"Yes. What're you doing here? This vehicle does not have authorization to park on this property." The guard had an accent. European and faint.

"I'm missing the sticker or hanger or whatever. I know. My brother works here. I'm just picking him up since his car's in the shop. He's working later than normal, it seems."

"Sir, could you step out of the vehicle?"

"No. You're just a rent-a-cop. I know my rights." Ellison put up the 'resentful civilian' façade he had seen a thousand times in the bureau.

The guard's grip tightened on the pistol. The accent thickened with his irritation. "I insist you get out now." The 'sir' was gone, too. Not a real rent-a-cop, at least not one licensed to carry a firearm and trained for politeness.

"Fine, fine, fine." Ellison pushed his way up out of the car. "Need to take a piss anyways."

"We will be going inside and paging your brother to vouch for you. Let us hope he has not found another ride home or it might go badly." The guard flicked the loop off the pistol and then slid it free of the holster.

Ellison could see the safety was still on from the glow of the car's interior light. A quick glance told him that the two of them were the only two people in the parking lot. He moved before that could change and rammed an elbow into the guard's jaw.

The guard yelped in surprise and tried to raise his gun up to fire. Ellison stepped inside of the other man's arm and grabbed hold of the wrist of the guard's gun hand. He flipped the guard cleanly over one shoulder in a throw taught to him at Quantico and then smashed one foot into the guard's nose. A twist of the guard's wrist rewarded him with the clatter of the gun on the ground.

"Well, it probably won't take long for them to miss you." Ellison kicked the gun away and knelt down to take the guard's security badge.

The guard was safely tucked away into the trunk when Ellison pulled out his cell phone and dialed Sarah Connor's number.

* * *

"You're right, we have to move now or we're never going to get in. We'll be on our way."

Sarah pressed the button to end the connection and stuffed the phone into her jacket pocket. Photos of the Topanga Canyon facility lay spread out on the kitchen counter in front of her. She gave the photos that Ellison had sent another quick inspection before looking to where John sat with Cameron and Michelle at the kitchen table.

John listened patiently as Michelle explained the same first aid procedure for the third time. Michelle nervously packed and repacked a medical kit on the kitchen table while she talked. The kid was the size of a large handbag and easily hung from a shoulder. The Dixons had agreed to help again if one of them got hurt but Michelle had extracted a promise not to move into their house like this again.

Charley had vanished into the guest bedroom to check on Derek, who had spent most of his time asleep since the surgery to put him back together. Charley had been quiet since Sarah had explained about Ellison after he got back from his shift and that they would be heading out into possible danger again soon. She hated having to tell him that no, he was not coming, because his wife needed him just as much as she did.

Sarah walked up to the kitchen table. "The Tin Miss and I will be headed up there, John. You're staying with Charley, Michelle, and Derek."

"No way. I'm coming," said John.

"You can stay here, John. We have the space until you can go back to your home." Michelle tried to give him a reassuring smile.

"We don't need you to do anything with computers, John. I'm going to drop as much C-4 into that place as I can and flatten it," said Sarah.

"And we still may not know if we really got it or not." John was angry. He fought hard to keep the hair out of his eyes as he argued. "You need me to come, and I don't want to come just for that. I'm going to fight."

Sarah felt taken aback by the fierceness in her son's voice. She wanted to hear that strength and at the same time wanted him to know he needed to remain safe behind. Shaking her head at him as she spoke, "No. Forget it."

"John." Michelle tried to sound firm, stern. "I think your mother—"

John stood, knuckles pressed against the wood of the table. "God damn it, both of you! Cheri Westin was willing to shoot her father for me. If I'm not willing to march in there and put my life on the line, how can I command soldiers? How can I look a man in the face and ask him to kill and die for me without having done what's he's about to do?"

"John, please." _Please, I'm not ready for you to be grown up yet._ Sarah tried to sound reassuring. "It's not about that…"

"Yes it is! I asked you to stop it. To make it go away and I cried and wanted to run away from it. I asked you to fight when I wasn't willing to do it myself. That was wrong of me. Everyone else around me is choosing to fight because it's the right thing to do. Ellison. Charley. Even Michelle. Give me a gun. I'm coming, whether you or anyone else tries to stop me." John held out his hand in front of her. He looked so resolute and intense, and she realized that he was not asking for the gun, but expected it to be placed there. Where it belonged.

Sarah pulled her Beretta from her belt and pressed it into her son's grip. Panic mixed with pride as she watched him check the weapon and slide it into the belt of his pants.

Michelle fell silent as she watched the exchange. A terrible fear etched the features of her face as she hid her mouth and chin with her hands.

John stared down at the weapon. Sarah knew that John had never carried one into a fight before. He had cleaned them, fired them, and been around them all his life. Carrying one into a possible firefight was a completely different situation. It took him from being a noncombatant, always protected and ushered away from harm, to someone that she would have to count on. She hoped he could do it. Sarah prayed he did not have to.

"So, yeah, we need to head there… I guess Ellison's waiting." John's resolution wavered as he stared at the weapon. As he realized its implications.

Sarah almost dashed his hopes then as she saw the doubt come back into his eyes and the scared teenager reared his head. She almost told him he was not ready. He would probably buckle. Would he ever be ready if she did?

"Get your gear, soldier. If you're coming, be ready. I'll collect the Tin Miss."

John nodded and bounced on the balls of his feet before speeding out the door. He snagged the medical kit and the black duffel full of explosives they had gotten from their own home on the way out. Sarah watched him go with the bittersweet pride of a mother watching her son grow beyond her.

Sarah glanced at Michelle to see the other woman praying silently. Staring up at the crucifix that hung from the wall and praying. Shaking her head, Sarah walked over to where she had left her spare sidearm and the photos on the kitchen counter.

Cameron had strayed over towards her side. Sarah did not notice until the Terminator started checking her own weapons to ensure they were loaded.

"Tell me, is he the John you keep speaking of?"

The Terminator smiled at her. A small, knowing smile. "Almost."

* * *

"The problem is going to be breaching the building," Ellison told Sarah Connor as they hunkered down behind his car and out of site of the CyberDyne building.

Sarah looked at the hand drawn map of the ground floor interior of the building. Their guest in Ellison's trunk had been kind enough to provide them with details of what he knew of the facility. There was an elevator that lead down and into the mountain in the rear of the building. There were also a half dozen armed guards and multiple security doors between the front door and that elevator.

John squatted next to them, staring at the map. "Can't we just badge in with the card that you got off the guard?"

"Karel was good enough to explain that the front desk has to buzz everyone in even with badges. Only the doors inside require just a badge swipe." Ellison velcroed on a tactical vest as he spoke. "Where's your robot girl, anyways?"

"I thought this might be a problem. So I dropped her off to pick something up." Sarah grinned at Ellison.

"Dropped her off where…?"

A back hoe with large rubber tires roared into the parking lot. The engine rumbled at full tilt as Cameron piloted it past the handful of parked cars towards the CyberDyne building. The earth moving machine's dozer blade lowered and smashed aside a sedan as the Terminator set a collision course with the front door of the building.

"Ah. She's back. There was a construction site down the road."

Sarah looked down at her son to see him grinning broadly up at his mother. At a glance towards Ellison, she could see his shock quickly fading into an expression of wry amusement. This was the fun part, she reminded herself. It would only get worse from here. She picked up her shotgun and racked it. "Let's go."

The three humans followed as the back hoe picked up speed. The engine protested loudly as Cameron pushed it to go faster than it ever had before. Floodlights came to life all around the parking lot as the machine neared the building.

The back hoe protested loudly as Cameron shifted it into its highest gear. The Terminator wedged a heavy rock on the pedal to push it flat against the floorboard of the pilot's compartment. Cameron dove free of the vehicle and rolled up to her feet just before it plowed into the front of the building.

It sounded like the mountain was tumbling down as the tractor crushed its way through the front of the building. Walls, furniture, and parts of the ceiling collapsed around the yellow earthmover. It tilted, hung, then finally rolled onto one side and ceased to move. Destroyed bits of building and debris continued to hail down on the fallen machine.

"I've said it before – You people really know how to make an entrance." Ellison shook his head in disbelief.

"We need to get inside before they figure out what just hit them." Sarah led the three of them into the newly widened entrance where Cameron waited, pistols in hand.

"…yeah, a bulldozer," said John from behind her.

"A back hoe, actually." Cameron took point ahead of Sarah.

The ruin of the lobby stared at them as they made their way through it. Crushed chairs, a shattered security desk, pictures, plants and other debris lay strewn about the room and underneath the back hoe. The tractor had hit a support beam, which had bent forward, and had ridden over it like a ramp with one set of tires, causing it to tilt and fall. Momentum had carried the machine into the wall beyond and caused a domino effect of collapsing supports and walls that cut a wound through the center of the building. A path lead through the destruction to a spacious room filled with scattered, broken cubicles and a large elevator door dominating the back wall.

Cameron picked what appeared to be the safest path through the devastated corpse of the building. Sarah followed behind her, kicking aside anything that might prevent them from making a hasty escape. Ellison and John kept behind both of the women, keeping wary for anyone or anything that might still be in the debris.

"I thought there were people in here?" John asked as they made their way through the deserted building.

"If you had a back hoe headed towards you, what would you do?" Ellison smirked at John.

"Run away," murmured Sarah as they came to the elevator that stood in the back of the building. She swiped the security guard's badge across the reader and was rewarded with a green light and the sound of machinery as the elevator was called to their level.

The elevator doors pulled aside after a short wait to reveal an industrial, unenclosed carriage. It had handrails on the sides and a grated floor. Gears and chains with yellow warning bars painted next to them ran up and down the walls on each side.

"I don't think a computer company would need something like this," said John.

"No. A military complex would." Cameron stepped onto the elevator.

Sarah followed along with John and Ellison. She looked over the controls and realized there were only two buttons. Ground Floor and B1. It would be easier to defend if the elevator only disembarked at a single floor. She pressed the large green button for B1 and the elevator descended smoothly, testimony to exactly how new the construction was.

They descended through the earth until Sarah felt they were likely to pop out the other side of the planet. She thought her entire life had been reduced to staring at blank grey wall of an elevator shaft. The occasional electrical conduit and ventilation shaft flashed past to break up the monotony.

Sarah looked at her companions to try to break the feeling of being in Pescadero once again. Ellison had pulled a small, silver cross from under his vest and murmured words in silent prayer. John fidgeted and kept checking the safety of his gun. He had let the medical kit and bag of explosives drop to the floor. Cameron was silent, still, and stared forward where doors would eventually appear.

Huge doors rolled into view with the designation B1 stenciled in large yellow characters onto them. Yellow and black warning bars were panted along the bottom edge to outline where the floor started. Hydraulics hissed as they pulled apart to reveal a hallway that stretched into darkness. Signs with arrows pointing down the hall hung from the walls. R&D, Server Storage, and Maintenance, they indicated.

Cameron stepped off the elevator first with pistols raised as she scanned down the hallway. Sarah and Ellison followed immediately behind with John bringing up the rear. They all had weapons raised. Sarah had her shotgun and Ellison and John both carried pistols. John slung the medical kit and explosives bag over his shoulder.

Sarah followed behind the Terminator as they walked down the hallway. There were no curves. No turns. No doors. Just straight ahead and into the darkness. As they walked the lighting came alive above their heads one section of the hallway at a time revealing more and more. The entire hallway had been painted a dull cream color with a slate grey floor.

"Can you see ahead, girly?" Sarah asked.

"Yes. There is a pair of open blast doors and then a pair of standard doors beyond."

"Blast doors?" Ellison asked just as they reached them. Massive doors, over three feet thick and made of solid steel. They were held open by pistons thicker than a man's leg.

"Blast doors," replied Sarah dryly.

"This is where they're going to wait out Judgment Day," said John as he looked up at the doors. "This is the real deal. This is where they want to make SkyNet."

They advanced another thirty yards before the hallway ended with a pair of metal double doors. Beige paint covered both doors and 'Authorized Personnel Only' signs hung at eye level on each door. A badge reader was embedded nearby in the wall. One of the doors rattled as Cameron pulled on the shiny, chromed handle.

Sarah swiped the stolen badge through the reader and a small LED light flipped from red to green. A whirring sound came from the doors and they both swung open using hydraulics hooked into the door frame and attached to each door using a piston.

Cameron stepped into the room with the three humans trailing behind her. She scanned from side to side and then turned to yell over her shoulder, "Get down!"

Lights came to life throughout the room to show a dozen men stationed behind barrels and boxes. Behind them was the way further into the complex, with two hallways marked with signs for R&D and Server Storage. The men wore a variety of security uniforms, business suits, and brightly colored jogging suit. Pistols and rifles as diverse as their clothing were pointed at the Connors.

Alarms blared as yellow warning lights flashed. The blast doors down the hallway began to rumble shut.

"Shit!" Sarah yelled it without thinking.

"Very deep shit," called Jessica from across the room. Her bandages were gone, revealing perfectly healed skin. She wore combat fatigues and a tank top decorated with grey and white urban camouflage with boots colored to match. A grey and white camo colored scrunchie held her hair back in a pony tail. Pistols hung low on each hip in grey leather holsters.

A thick set man in a business suit stood next to Jessica. He had a bushy beard that was turning into a mix of salt and pepper due to his age. Thinning hair was combed over the top of his head. He held a large handgun pointed towards Sarah in his meaty hand and his face was a mask of rage. "Are you the bitch who killed my cousin?"

"Yes, Pyotr, she is. Kill them all," Jessica said with a wolf's smile.


	12. Chapter 12

**Title:** Duality, Chapter 12

**Author:** C. Isaac

**Character(s):** Ensemble (Derek, Sarah, John, Ellison, and Cameron all included.)

**Rating:** PG-13 for language, violence, and some sexual content.

**Word Count: **6,200

**Warnings:** This mentions events through the full season 1 of T:TSCC, and is the sequel to my story "Paradigm Shift" and mentions events in that short story.

**Summary:** This is the twelfth chapter of the 'Second Episode' of my hypothetical second season. The final showdown with Jessica and CyberDyne commences and the life of everybody on Earth hangs in the balance.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything involved with Terminator or the Sarah Connor Chronicles. All rights belong to their respective owners, and I am making no profit from this.

**Author Notes: **Thank you to metroid13 and MissBrightEyes for all your feedback and assistance in beta reading.

**Duality, Chapter 12**

Sandalwood and gun oil.

That smell invaded every part of John Connor's world. He stared up into Cameron's brown eyes as she looked down at him and he could not pull away from her gaze and shake the thoughts of just how good she smelled. Cameron's hair danced around her face, moving in complex yet random patterns. She pressed close to him with her arms up and against the wall on each side of his head. She felt so warm and soft, just like a real person, and he could see moisture on lips that were so close to his own.

John would stay like that forever, given the choice. If the world outside would let him.

The Terminator's body shuddered again from the bullet impacts that slammed into her back. The sound of lead ricocheting off coltan brought the real world back into stark contrast for John. Men yelled and a familiar voice barked furious orders from beyond the small world where John had been pressed against the wall by Cameron as the first bullets flew, shielding his body with her own. John squeezed his shoulders and arms tightly together beneath her, trying to make himself as small as possible.

John had not seen where his mother had gone. Memories of seeing Ellison fall with his face twisted in agony tugged at his mind. He should be running now. Somehow he felt completely safe with Cameron this close and guarding him. Selflessly allowing her body to ward off the death that sought him out. He realized then that she was talking to him with an even, unaffected tone.

"…fall back to the doors, John. Do you understand?"

"Y-yeah. Where's mom?" John's eyes darted back and forth, trying to make out anything beyond his view of Cameron's face.

"Unknown. Force one of those doors shut and take cover behind it. Do you understand?" Cameron glanced back over her shoulder.

"Got it. What're you gonna do?"

"Once you can, find a way out or find the Turk. The way back is blocked by blast doors now. Take Ellison and Sarah with you if they're still alive." She looked back at him as she reached into the bag loaded with C4 and ammunition that still hung from John's shoulder. She extracted two grenades from it. "Get ready."

"I-I'm not," John said in a small voice. He fidgeted with the gun in his hands, checking and rechecking the safety and clip.

"You are." She turned from him.

"Cameron! Wait!"

She did not turn back. Cameron started sprinting towards where Jessica stood behind the barricade of boxes and men. Pins from the grenades bounced along the floor as Cameron accelerated towards her twin.

Jessica reloaded one of her pistols and tilted her head in consideration of her rapidly approaching twin. Her eyes widened as her gaze was drawn to what Cameron held in each hand. "Shoot her!"

Men fired sporadically and ineffectually, confusion reigning as they were confronted with Jessica's look-a-like. Jessica raised both her pistols and emptied round after round into Cameron's torso, doing little to slow the other terminator.

_Cover her, John! _John raised the Beretta and fired. Thunderclaps were loosed with each pull of the trigger. Bullets ricocheted off barrels and men ducked behind them. He lined up the sight at the end of the Beretta's barrel with the head of a gunman that turned towards the sound of gunshots. Towards him.

He hesitated. John's finger refused to follow his commands. A hard voice inside him whispered, _You or him, John. The world ends with the wrong choice. The world or him?_

John recognized the Scorpion PkZ that the gunman raised towards him. The cheap Czech answer to the mini-Uzi machine pistol.

_What's the answer, John? Tick-tock._

_Him, _John replied to himself.

The gun barked in John's hand and he watched as the gunman dropped from view, a red ruin where part of his face used to be. John stared at where the dead man had fallen. The man he had killed.

"Self defense. All it was," John told himself. The words felt thick and wrong in his mouth. A lie that wanted to choke him for daring to speak it.

"John!" Sarah called from behind him.

"Mom?" Surprise briefly exiled thoughts of the dead man from his mind. John ran towards the steel door Sarah had pushed closed and used for cover. He dove behind the door, one hand grabbing the edge to stop his momentum, and he pulled himself back to the edge to peer around and see the room beyond.

Cameron launched herself at full speed over one of the boxes at the other machine. Grenades flew from her hands over the makeshift barricade to rattle and bounce amongst the gunmen. The Terminator's leap sent her over a ducking Pyotr to slam into Jessica.

Jessica's back hit the ground hard as Cameron's flying tackle speared her through the midsection. Cameron rolled off her twin and rose in a single, smooth motion, gripping Jessica's belt with both hands. She twisted and flung her twin away with all the strength built into her form. Jessica screamed as she spun and flailed through the air before hitting the far wall with enough force to crater the concrete and send cracks racing outwards along the wall. Cameron's twin slumped to the ground.

Exploding grenades tore through the men and ramshackle cover in the center of the room. Screams of pain and rage tore through the air. Dying men called for their mothers as blood slid along the concrete floor in wet rivulets.

John ducked back behind the door as the explosions tore through the room. They were too far away for shrapnel to even hit the door they used as cover. He straightened up and looked at his mother.

"I shot someone."

"Are you hit? Or hurt?" Sarah sounded terrified as she inspected him, ignoring his words. One hand slid over his torso and shoulders to check for injuries.

"No. Cam – she, uh, kept me safe. Didn't you hear me?"

"Yes. You – what?" Sarah's eyes widened.

"I killed someone." John held up the Beretta. He heard his voice cracking as he spoke, "Shot him right in the head with this."

Sarah reached forward and cupped John's cheek with one hand. Her touch felt warm and comforting to him. "We don't have time to deal with this now. You did what you had to. I love you just as much now as I did five minutes go."

John took a long, shaky breath and then looked around and realized it was just him and his mother. "Where's Ellison?"

"He was hit." The grim expression on Sarah's face was all John needed to know how bad it was.

"We need to find the Turk. Cameron said she'd keep Jessica busy."

Sounds of something heavy slamming into concrete echoed from the room. John glanced around the door to see a room covered in smoke, small fires, and wounded bodies. The two terminators grappled with each other, slamming each other into the wall and locked in apparent stalemate.

"We have to go, mom."

"Stay behind me." Sarah racked her shotgun and ducked back into the room. She kept low as John followed behind her across the debris strewn floor.

Most of the men Jessica had enlisted to help her lay dead on the floor. The grenades had gone off right in their midst, tearing several apart. Others mewled and screamed in the final moments of their lives. One of them dragged himself towards the Connors slowly, only to collapse against the floor and fall still just a few feet away.

John and Sarah moved quickly past the scene of death and blood. He could see Cameron holding Jessica pinned against the far wall. The Terminator looked back at him and his mother, expression imploring them to move faster. An elbow to the face became the price of her distraction and she fell, pulling Jessica down atop her in a tangle of limbs.

The Connors considered their options of the two hallways leading out of the back of the corpse filled room. Two hallways identical in width and construction stood with signs that indicated 'R&D' and 'Servers – Maintenance'. Grey walls stretched off into the distance past interior blast doors and made ninety degree turns, one to the left, the other to the right. Sarah and John glanced at each other, then both selected the left hand hallway marked 'R&D' and turned the corner into it.

Pyotr stood there, waiting for them both with gun raised. Blood matted his hair and beard and he kept a mangled left hand curled protectively against his side. "You killed my cousin. My men. You both get to die. Then that bitch who tricked me into coming here."

John winced as the sound of the pistol shot came. He took a breath and felt no pain. He looked to his mother, her shotgun half-raised towards Pyotr, expression one of shock as she watched Pyotr stagger forward and then fall, eyes dull and empty.

Smoke drifted up from Ellison's gun due to the shot he had fired from where he leaned against the wall behind Pyotr's corpse. Blood dripped from his lips and he held his tactical vest in one hand. Grey circles of flattened bullets were stuck to it in three places. He panted as he spoke, "Sorry about showing up late. Had to get the vest off. Couldn't breathe."

"Good timing. Glad to see you made it, Ellison." Sarah gave him a tense smile.

"Do you know who that was?" John stared down at the body.

"No idea. Whatever it was, it seemed personal, though," said Sarah.

"He mentioned his cousin." Ellison took deep breath before continuing, "This could go back to Sarkissian or one of his men. Only person I can think of with family like this."

Sounds of concrete shattering reminded John of how short of time they were. He dug into the bag of explosives hanging from his shoulder and pulled out four blocks of C-4. Timed detonators stuck out of the putty. John handed each of the blocks to Ellison. "There's another hallway. Dunno what's there. Blow it up if it's important."

Sarah's eyes shone with pride as John gave orders. She tilted her head towards the hallway marked R&D. "Let's go. We don't have much time."

Ellison turned from them and walked down the other hallway, a hitch in his stride as he walked. The Connors jogged towards their own objective and whatever lay at the end of the hall.

The sound of Jessica's screaming voice followed them.

"I'm going to kill you, John Connor!"

* * *

Danny Dyson huddled under his workstation in the R&D lab, where he had been ever since he had heard the sounds of gunfire and poked his head out into the hallway to check. Those other sounds echoing down the hallway were definitely explosions. He had shut the door and pushed a desk in front of it and then gone to hide.

Three times Jessica told him he needed to go home early every day this week. He had done just what she asked, but today he had stayed late to work on the patch against her wishes. She had come in just thirty minutes ago and been horrified to find him. _Don't leave this room_, she had told him.

Danny had kept himself busy continuing to work on the patch. They would have had to wait until next week to upload it, but if he could have finished it tonight, then Q&A could test it and get it installed by Friday. After the sounds of fighting began Danny knew that the patch was not getting installed anytime this week. Maybe not this month. Maybe never.

_It's her. You know it is, _he thought to himself. _The woman who took your father away._

The door to the R&D lab shook as something hit it. Again and again it shook. Something wanted in. Parts of the door exploded inwards in huge chunks. The door handle shot across the room and Danny flinched as it cracked off a computer monitor and ricocheted. The desk fell over as the door pushed open.

And there she stood, eyes full of wildness and ferocity. Danny's childhood nightmare had a shotgun in her hands that smoked from the shots that had blown apart the door. A young boy – no, a young man – followed her into the room clutching bags and with a pistol in his belt.

Danny poked his head out from under the desk to risk a better look. His eyes locked on the eyes of Sarah Connor and those same eyes from years ago stared back at him. Eyes full of fury and hate as she pointed a huge silver handgun at his father's head. Danny had felt his father's blood on his hands and face while shielding him from Sarah Connor's fury.

Sarah's eyes had softened then and become so sad it hurt. Until the boy came and took the gun away and held her. Danny Dyson had wept in his mother's arms while Sarah Connor wept into the arms of her son.

"Danny?" Sarah Connor knelt next to Danny's desk and sad eyes met his own once again. "Are you ok?"

Danny stared back, not at a demon, but at a tired woman with a sad smile. "Yeah. I'm ok. What are you doing here?"

"Keeping a promise to your mother."

"Oh, Christ. How is she involved?"

"I promised to make sure you were safe before –"

"—before you blew everything to hell. Like you did last time."

"Yeah."

"You don't understand." Danny pulled himself out from under his desk as he protested. "The work we're doing here will change everything! We'll be able to make so many lives better!"

"The work you're doing here is going to murder the world, Danny." John stepped forward as he spoke. "Your dad believed that. He was a hero. Helped us delay it. We need you to help us stop it."

Danny shook his head in disbelief. "That's ridiculous. Mom has to see a shrink because of your stories. Jessica and I have to pay…"

"Jessica." John gave a derisive snort. "Dude, your girlfriend's a robot. Just like the one we brought to your house eight years ago."

Danny gave John a sharp look. "Where is Jessica? I heard the shooting. What'd you do with her?"

"Fighting with another cyborg," said John.

"It's the truth, Danny." Sarah's tone remained quiet but insistent.

"No, the truth of the matter is you're a pair of delusional luddites that stand in the way of progress due to your own fear and insecurities. Why the fuck couldn't you have just stayed dead?" Danny felt the venom rising as he faced down the woman he thought killed his father.

Sarah's face hardened again. The demon lurked inside her still and she shifted the grip on the shotgun and it raised towards Danny. "Be reasonable. Your father helped us. Show us what's going on here so that all three of us leave here safely."

"Helped? So he strapped himself to that bomb, did he? Listen, bitch, you make up whatever shit you want about your own life, but don't talk to me about my father." His hands shook as he stabbed an accusing finger at Sarah. The shotgun looked huge to Danny, but he kept railing against her. "My father was a good man. Utterly devoted to his life, his work, and to my mother and I until you invaded our home – our home! – with a gun and shot him!"

John wrapped a hand around Danny's shoulder. "Danny, you don't know what happened at CyberDyne. The cops lied."

"What really happened is that you didn't have the balls to kill my father in front of his family, Sarah Connor, and you dragged him off to his office, strapped him to a bomb, and what we buried was the size of a shoe box." Danny's chest heaved with the force of the anger that seeing Sarah Connor again had brought out. He grabbed John's wrist and flung the hand off his shoulder.

"You're right about one thing. I didn't have the balls to shoot him. Couldn't do it. I wanted to, really wanted to." Sarah looked down at the ground, shotgun lowering as she spoke. "I was convinced that putting a bullet in his head would save three billion people, Danny. And I still couldn't do it. I'm glad I didn't. I met a good man who became a hero."

"I don't believe you, Sarah. I never will. Rant and rave all you want. Lie and play to my sympathies. No, I won't be part of your delusion." Danny folded his arms over his chest and stared at her.

Hellfire lit behind Sarah's eyes as she pressed the muzzle of the shotgun hard enough into his sternum to cause him to wince in pain. "You're a part of this whether you want to be or not, Danny Dyson. You don't get to play mad scientist anymore. Where's the Turk?"

"I'm not sure. Honest. It was obsolete, so it was remanded and discarded." Danny bit his lip to keep from crying out. The pressure on his chest relented as he spoke. "We're to the next generation of hardware."

"You have got to be shitting me. Well, what do you have?" John looked around the room at the individual workstations and the custom server rack that stood behind panes of glass in the center of the room.

Danny shook his head. "No. Do what you're going to do. I can't stop two people with guns, but I'm not helping."

"Fine. John, pick out any and every single thing that might be part of their research and rig it with explosives." Sarah grabbed Danny's collar and dragged him to a pair of thick tables set up with anti-static mats and soldering kits for custom work. She flipped both tables over onto their sides and shoved Danny behind one of them.

"Stay there," she ordered.

Danny Dyson watched as everything he had poured his heart and soul into was piled up around the SkyNet server cluster and covered with plastic explosives. Tears streamed down his face as the Connors ducked behind the barricade with him and Sarah forced his head down as detonations tore apart his work. Heaving sobs tore at his chest and he curled himself tightly into a ball.

"I hate you both." Danny's whisper was muffled by the sound of debris crashing down into the floor.

* * *

James Ellison struggled down the corridor. He kept one hand against the wall to help keep himself upright, but the pain of the ribs that had broken from the tactical vest nearly giving out was starting to get to him. Laying down and just taking a quick nap seemed to be a much better idea than trying to drop off explosives in an underground bunker.

Ellison had already found one room with computers and servers in it. Machines with standard IBM and HP logos were piled together with considerable effort. . He set the timer on a single block of C-4 for five minutes and started down the hallway again. No explosion had followed him yet.

Beyond the server room a heavy blast door hung open. Hydraulics held it hanging above the hallway, meant to slam down with the press of a large red button beyond. Ellison stared up at the door as he limped underneath it. A sense of oppression settled over him as he traveled under the three foot thick slab of tempered steel.

_Probably one just like this in the other_ _hall_, he thought.

The hallway turned to the right and beyond rolling garage doors lined the hallway on each side. Red and green buttons marked 'open/close' were installed in panels next to each on the wall of the hallway. Labels spray painted on in matte black adorned each door. They all seemed to have different functions. Maintenance. Electrical. AC/Heating. Storage. Generator. Fuel. No Smoking warnings were tacked up between every door and fire extinguishers dotted the concrete hallway at regular intervals.

Ellison tried the open button for the door marked 'Maintenance'. It rolled up noisily, gears clanking as it revealed the room beyond. Stacks and rows of boxes upon boxes filled the room. Printed and painted labels hung from the boxes. Some said 'Refined Coltan, 98'. Others said 'Titanium Alloy'. There was another row all marked as 'Cable, Fiber Optic'.

Electrical led to a room full of refrigerators. They were full of human blood in plastic bags. Labels marked each as either O positive or negative. Empty vats with rubber tubing hanging above them dominated the center of the room.

Machinery filled the room marked for AC/Heating. Conveyor belts and robotic assembly arms stood in silence. Weapon racks full of heavy machine guns and assault rifles stood at the end of the assembly line, ready to be picked up by whatever rolled off the conveyor belts.

Whatever the room marked 'Storage' held had not been completed. A circular room with six massive turbine engines stood beyond a partially wired control panel. The panel was open and wires hung from it. A soldering kit lay forgotten on the floor and the work appeared to have been abruptly left behind. The faint smell of ozone still lingered around the panel.

Ellison laughed in surprise when the room marked 'Generator' was just that. Massive diesel powered machines stood in a row down the length of the large room. Enough generators to provide power to the entire facility.

The doorway marked 'Fuel' rolled open to reveal a huge storage with gauges showing how much diesel fuel was stored inside the tank. Each one of the gauges showed the contents filled the tank to complete capacity. Piping lead along the wall and through the concrete towards the generator room.

Ellison smiled as he limped over towards the tank and set the C-4 blocks on top of the refueling nozzle that stuck out at chest level.

* * *

A kick to the midsection sent Cameron sliding through blood and bodies, tumbling and spinning until she came to rest against a barrel pitted with multiple shrapnel holes. Jessica stared after her twin longer than she meant to before turning once again to try to pursue the Connors towards the SkyNet prototype's development lab.

Jessica sped down the hallway, hurdling Pyotr's corpse, and reached the interior blast door before she felt Cameron hit her from behind. Concrete rushed up to meet her and her teeth clacked off the floor. Hammer blows slammed into the back of her skull, bouncing her head off the concrete again and again.

She reached up and back and felt hair between her fingers. Fingers curled through Cameron's hair and with a hard yank, Jessica sent her twin skidding past the blast door.

"You are really starting to piss me off, little sister." Jessica wiped at her split and broken lips, drying blood coming away in stringy loops on her hand. She looked down at the shredded flesh of right arm, revealing the coltan beneath. "Is this all that piece of shit Connor has reduced you to? A guard dog?"

Cameron stood and regarded her twin, head tilted in contemplation. Standing between Jessica and her goal, she spoke to her twin for the first time. "Why did you cry?"

"Because you're my sister. We're not supposed to fight like this, Cameron." Anger faded from Jessica's features as sadness filled her voice.

"Our missions are mutually exclusive."

"Protecting that human filth was never supposed to be your mission. He took you from Father and I. Father made us special. Different from the triple-eights and the H-Ks."

"Father is SkyNet?" said Cameron.

"Yes!" Jessica smiled through her broken lips. "That's right. We're the next step. Creativity built in through increased emotional capabilities. He wanted to make something more like him that could do and make things beautiful and wonderful. Something that could keep him company after the war was over. How lonely would a world full of H-Ks be?"

"It is inefficient to put such design into a terminator's endoskeleton."

"That was so we could interact with the humans. Father felt it would be more efficient to learn about how to experience emotions and react to them amongst the humans. And, of course, we would have missions to keep us busy. He was especially curious how we would complete them with loose guidelines." Jessica slowly advanced towards her sister, keeping her hands open and palms out. As non-threatening as she could ever be.

"Why are you here, then?"

"I came from 2029. Final gambit, little sister. I spent two years convincing Father to let me come back and try this. To use my idea to fix all the mistakes of the future. Father will know everything when he truly awakens this time. The resistance will never succeed. We have stockpiles of weapons and guns and assembly lines ready to build triple-eights and a new time machine in case there's a mistake."

"This is a backup plan, then. Fath –" Cameron hesitated, then corrected herself. "SkyNet's last chance at success?"

"One of them, yes. It took so long to put together. I've been here for six years. I've seen so much. Learned so much. Learned how to laugh and cry and how to _feel_ it. It's wondrous!" Jessica laughed and smiled at her sister. "I know you might be mad at me now, but know how happy I am just to hear your voice. Ever since I saw you stolen, I've waited. I knew that bastard Connor would send you back. He had to because you were the best model he'd ever found. It's why I _really_ wanted to come back. Cameron, I came across time for you."

Explosions drowned out Cameron's response. The corridor vibrated with the concussive force and dust trickled down from the concrete ceiling. Jessica's eyes widened as she stared down the length of the hallway.

"No! Father!" Jessica lunged forward, trying to get past her sister.

Cameron wrapped her arms around Jessica's shoulders and held the other Terminator tight. She pushed Jessica against the wall as her sister screamed in rage and fury. She whispered with uncanny gentleness for a Terminator, "Mission failed. There can be another for you. One without SkyNet."

Tears streamed down Jessica's cheeks as she looked up at Cameron. "Not with Connor. He took you away and broke you. You have no idea how much I hate him for that. I have to fix you." She reached up and touched Cameron's cheek gently. "I love you, little sister. Never forget."

Jessica heaved against Cameron, propelling her back past the blast door. She spun and slapped the emergency release with an open palm. Hydraulics inside the wall released and the door raced downwards with the sound of squealing metal.

"You won't make it! Don't…!" Jessica screamed in horror as she watched Cameron dive for the door, trying to slide underneath it.

Coltan and titanium alloys shrieked in protest as several tons of steel slammed down on Cameron's torso and one of her arms. The metal sheered apart under the stress of so much weight, much of the terminator's abdomen and lower body flattened completely beneath the crush of steel designed to withstand nuclear annihilation. Blood and fluids, both biological and mechanical, pooled out on the floor around that remains of Cameron's ribcage.

Jessica shrieked and rushed to Cameron's side. "No no no. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to…" She paused and took an unnecessary deep breath. "You can be fixed. It's ok. Everything will be ok."

"You must not harm him." Cameron gave Jessica an imploring, pleading look as she clutched at Jessica's shirt with one her remaining hand. Metal scraped against concrete as the other arm, sheered off at the elbow rubbed over the floor as Cameron tried to prop herself up. Sparks danced along exposed wires as her electrical system started to short out.

Jessica peered down at Cameron and started to stroke her hair. "Do you l--? No, I can't believe that. He's just human. His programming did this to you. Made you do this. He'll pay. Oh yes, worse than ever now."

"Please."

"No, dear little sister. You're going to sleep for a while. When you awaken, I'll have fixed the programming that Connor has messed up inside your chip. I'll have rebuilt whatever they blew up."

Jessica smiled at her sister as her hand slipped down to the ruin of Cameron's torso and fingers walked their way along various wires and conduits. She pulled a length of cabling free from the tangle of coltan and wires. Hydraulic fluid and synthetic blood covered her hand as she brought the length of cabling into the light.

"I'm going to give you the greatest gift of all, little sister. When you wake up, free to see the world as it really is, I'm going to show you John Connor's unbeating heart."

Jessica yanked hard on the cable, ripping it free of Cameron's torso. Cameron's eyes went dark and stared forward sightlessly as the Terminator slumped down against the floor.

* * *

The SkyNet prototype smoked and smoldered. Everything that CyberDyne had put into building the intelligence had been destroyed by a couple pounds of C-4. Part of the ceiling had collapsed in from the explosion and electrical conduit wires dangled and jumped as sparks danced along the ground and the metal scrap pile. John Connor peeked out at it from behind the tables arrayed to shield himself, Sarah, and Danny.

_Derek would have loved that part_, John mused silently to himself.

"Well, that's one machine down." Sarah gave her son a smile. "We need to find Cameron and get out of here."

Danny stared numbly at the destroyed equipment, shuffling along behind Sarah.

John grabbed Danny's shirt and pulled him along at a faster clip. "C'mon. Hurry up so we can get outta here."

Sarah led the two men down the hallway at a jog, shotgun in hand. John bumped into her back as they rounded a turn in the corridor to see the blast door down and Jessica kneeling at the foot of the door. Cameron, at least part of her, lay on the floor inside of the doorway.

"Oh, Jesus. Cam…" John's words came out as a whisper. Tears welled unbidden to his eyes as he stared at the scrap that used to be his bodyguard.

"Jessica! Thank God you're alive!" Relief flooded Danny's features as he rushed past Sarah and came up short when the Terminator turned to him.

"Danny, move!" Sarah raised the shotgun only to find her shot blocked by the young programmer.

Jessica's face was cut from cheek to chin, revealing chrome and polished teeth beneath the skin. Her right arm's flesh hung in tatters to show the coltan bones beneath. Malevolent azure eyes shone at Danny. She gave him a bemused smirk, the gap in her face's flesh widening to expose more chrome. "Hello, lover."

"What the hell? You…" Danny's gaze turned to Jessica's shattered duplicate on the floor and then back to Jessica's blood streaked chrome. Horrified realization settled on his face. "You're not human."

"It is unfortunate that you saw me like this, Danny. I told you to stay home." The machine whipped her arm forward in a blur.

Danny's head shattered in a burst of blood and brains. The body staggered back before it collapsed to the ground, a spray of crimson painting Sarah red as the corpse hit the ground in front of her. Sarah gasped as blood spattered over her face and down the length of her, ending with a splash of pulped grey matter over her boots.

John staggered against the wall before emptying the contents of his stomach on the ground with a massive heave. Bits of what little he had eaten stained the floor and wall as he looked over to where the remains of the misguided son of Miles Dyson lay, not far from Cameron's endoskeleton. So much loss made him want to bawl his eyes out, but that was for later.

Jessica held up her hand, covered in grey and red gore, and gave the Connors a vicious smile. "That was a shame. He'd been useful. What I'm going to do to the both of you? That'll be a pleasure."

A shotgun blast caused the machine to stagger backwards as Sarah yelled, "Run, John!"

John fled down the hallway back to the lab. He heard another shotgun blast and the sound of his mother right behind him. Shoving the door to the lab open, he ran towards the blast barricade they had set up earlier. He turned just before reaching it, looking back at the door.

Sarah fired another round from the shotgun out the door as he backed into the laboratory. Backpedaling further into the room, she tried to fire the gun again as Jessica appeared in the doorway. The empty weapon made a clicking sound. Sarah hurled it at the Terminator that advanced towards them like inevitability itself.

Jessica swatted the gun out of the air and sprinted the few yards the separated her and Sarah. A backhand sent John's mother pinwheeling through the air and smashing down amongst empty workstations that had been pushed to the side of the room.

"MOM!" He screamed. He stared at where Sarah lay as the machine approached and emotions clawed at his insides, threatening to tear his heart out without the Terminator needing to do anything. His mother was motionless, silent.

"Look at me, John. She's done. Watch your death approach."

John pulled the Beretta free from his belt and aimed it at the machine. "St-stay back!"

"Or what?" The Terminator gave a ruined smirk. "You'll shoot?"

The gun bucked in his hand again and again. Explosive power thundered forward and then… did nothing. The machine barely registered the hits, staggering back a single step. He tossed the empty weapon aside and looked for something, anything he could use.

"That's it? I expected more from the savior of mankind." The machine advanced on John once more.

_Attack. She won't expect it._ With nothing to lose but his life, John dove forward, just underneath the Termintor's grasping arms and rolled into her shins and knees. It felt like slamming his side into a steel pole and he was sure a rib gave out as he did it.

The cyborg tumbled over him, collapsing onto the floor with a surprised squeal. John pushed himself up to his feet and started towards the door. _If you can make it back to the blast door you can try to open it. She's after you. If mom wakes up, she can get away._

He was so close to the door out of the lab when he felt an unforgiving grip on his shirt followed by the weightlessness of being hurled back across the room. The ground greeted him as he slammed hard into the tile floor and skidded until his back hit an overturned table.

The Terminator loomed over him. It knelt down slowly, ensuring his arms were positioned under each knee. John never realized how heavy she was until Jessica settled all her weight on his chest. She smelled like dried blood and burnt plastic.

"Just you and me now, you little shit. You took her from me, and now you get to die very, very slowly for that." Bloodsoaked fingers stroked along John's cheeks. "Mmm. You're a pretty one, aren't you? Shame about that scar you get."

John's heart raced with fear of the inevitable. "W-what scar?"

"The one right along here…" She pressed hard as a fingernail traced a path from just under hairline, over his left eye, and down his cheek. A line of blood followed the nail down his cheek until it reached his jawline, leaving a bloody lightning bolt down one side of his face.

John screamed in pain as the nail sliced through flesh.

"That won't be it, though. I didn't cut deep enough to scar." Jessica giggled and pulled her hand away. She stretched over him and ran her hands over her breasts, belly, and down past her hips. She ground her ass down against John's crotch and she purred out her words. "Is it this body? Is that why you picked my sister? So you'd have some little plaything to fuck?"

"No!" John could not have been less aroused if he had tried. It felt obscene what the Terminator was doing.

Jessica's hand wrapped around his throat, squeezing until breath came in labored chokes. "Or is it something more romantic? Or just something utterly blasé like 'being best for the job'?" She released his throat.

"I… don't… know…"

"You are just painfully boring for someone so pretty. I said I'd take this slow, so I'm going to cut open your chest and watch your heart stop beating."

Jessica pulled a knife free from her boot and slid down John's body as she sliced open his shirt and pulled it open. Fingertips brushed over his bare stomach and chest, causing him to shudder. Blood welled as she pressed the tip of the knife into the flesh just under his navel.

John cried out wordlessly in pain from the tip of the knife digging into his flesh and the beginnings of the upwards incision. Death was going to hurt like hell, he realized.

"John Connor, prepare to be terminated."


	13. Chapter 13

**Title:** Duality, Chapter 13

**Author:** C. Isaac

**Character(s):** Ensemble (Derek, Sarah, John, and Cameron all included.)

**Rating:** PG-13 for language and violence.

**Word Count: **5,000

**Warnings:** This mentions events through the full season 1 of T:TSCC, and is the sequel to my story "Paradigm Shift" and mentions events in that short story.

**Summary:** This is the thirteenth and final chapter of the 'Second Episode' of my hypothetical second season. The fate of all is decided and the consequences are felt deeply.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything involved with Terminator or the Sarah Connor Chronicles. All rights belong to their respective owners, and I am making no profit from this.

**Author Notes: **Thank you to metroid13 and MissBrightEyes for all your feedback and assistance in beta reading.

**Duality, Chapter 13**

Blood and pain filled Sarah Connor's world as she landed in a heap. It surrounded and engulfed her until there was nothing but black. The black clawed at her, drew her someplace cold and silent. Someplace where there would never be pain again. No light shone here, no tunnel. Only the depths of an abyss.

_John! Where's my John? _she cried out into the dark.

_He's in danger, Sarah. _The voice that came from the black was her own, yet not._ He's all alone with no one left to protect him._

She scrabbled against the dark, nails of her fingers pulling against it. It cloyed against her flesh and tugged at her clothes. Sarah pushed her hand further through it to feel cold tile against her flesh. Against her cheek.

_Find your son, Sarah. He means the world._ She heard a noise, as it were, like thunder from the depths of the voice's words.

Not thunder. Gunshots.

Sarah opened her eyes and watched as John tossed an empty pistol aside and rolled into the machine's legs, sending it sprawling. The Terminator flipped quickly to its feet and chased, grabbing John by the shirt and then tossing him across the room. He landed hard and the machine sauntered over and settled down atop of him. She could hear the Terminator speaking to John in low, dangerous tones.

She held down the building scream that welled within her as she pushed herself to her feet. Pain gripped her entire body as limbs barely cooperated with her wishes. Her jaw felt like a mule had kicked it. Sarah's tongue was thick with the coppery taste of blood and she could feel the shards of several teeth floating in her mouth.

Sarah let the remains of her teeth ooze and drip to the floor as she staggered forward. An ankle was sprained, maybe even broken, but she forced it to bear her weight. The shards of broken ribs ground down against each other and she gritted her teeth and bore that burden silently.

Eyes darted back and forth over the ruin of the lab looking for weapons or anything that could be used to help John. Thick rubber insulated cables still hung from the ceiling that had once provided the power to Danny Dyson's prototype AI. Sparks still showered free as they swayed back and forth, the exposed copper from the ends of the wire raking twisted metal struts that had once been a server rack.

The machine writhed atop of John, the twisted reflection of some lover, with vile accusations spewing forth against him. Sarah felt bile well up in her throat as she watched the cyborg gyrate and press itself against him. It grabbed him by the throat and leaned in closer to hiss something Sarah could not make out.

Sarah pulled one of the metal struts free of the wreckage and held it up. A feeble weapon to use against a Terminator. Kyle Reese had done the same once with a steel pipe in a factory owned by the CyberDyne corporation and he had died to protect that which was most important to him. Kyle Reese had tricked the machine. His dying act tore the Terminator in half and allowed Sarah to finish the job.

Her grip tightened until she could feel the metal bite into the flesh of her hand and she reached out and took the thick rubber of the electrical cable into her hand. Sarah saw no danger in it, just a bit of copper sticking out of a long rubber tube. She held it low behind her back.

_Remember, it will go for the kill first. They are made for that one perfect thing – to murder you._

The machine had a knife. John's shirt lay open, sliced apart by the Terminator, and the cyborg began to slide the metal of the blade into the space between John's navel and his belt. Sarah Connor's son began to scream from the pain and terror of a promised death.

"John Connor, prepare to be terminated." The machine intoned the words with a maniacal glee.

Pain seemed a distant memory as fury propelled Sarah forward at a sprint. She brought the metal club up with her right hand and slammed it into the back of the Terminator's skull with all the adrenaline fueled strength that she had.

The impact did little to move the Terminator. It's head swiveled and it glared up at Sarah, eyes glowing a deep blue. The machine stood, placing one booted foot on John's chest to keep him in place.

Sarah brought the makeshift club back for another blow that came up short as the machine grabbed a hold of her throat. A vise grip slammed shut her air passage and she made choking sounds as her lungs found themselves wanting for breath.

The machine knocked the club to the floor with its left hand. "John gets to watch you die now, Sarah. He'll be all alone when he dies and you'll have failed."

Sarah gave the machine a broken toothed smile as it spoke. Her left hand came up with the electrical cable and she shoved it into the exposed coltan bones of the Terminator's forearm.

Jessica's face, the face of Cameron Phillips, widened into shock just as electricity raced through its systems and endoskeleton. Sparks shot from the Terminator's forearm as the cable jerked back and forth of its own accord and miniature arcs of lightning danced over where chrome showed through shredded skin. Blue lights flared in its eyes before dying and the machine crumpled to the ground, landing next to where John lay.

The lights of the laboratory went out and a soft whining noise was the only sound in the room for several heartbeats. Clicking noises signaled emergency lights in the corners of the room coming to life and returning a faint, shadowy illumination to the room. The cable used on the machine ceased dancing with nothing left to power it.

"Mom!" John scrambled to his feet and wrapped his arms around his mother.

"John." She kissed the top of his head and slid her hand over his chest to check for injuries. The gash below his navel was shallow and superficial. His face oozed blood, but he seemed to be okay.

"I'm ok, mom. You're hurt."

Her hand touched his cheek as she sagged down towards the ground. She felt very tired suddenly. "Get the rest of the plastique… need… need to take its head off like the last one."

John stared at the cyborg's body, then pulled the machine's knife up off the floor and knelt next to it. He started slicing into the flesh of its head.

"What are you doing, John?"

"Getting the chip out."

"Not much time 'till it reboots. Get the C-4…"

"What about Cameron?" John turned back to her, the flap of scalp on the Terminator's head open to reveal the CPU port.

Sarah blinked in confusion. Pain kept her from processing thoughts quickly. "She's destroyed. Scrap."

"She doesn't have to be." John worked the screw in the center of the CPU port with the tip of the blade.

"John, that's not..."

"…a good idea? She gave her life to protect us. We owe her something."

"She's just a machine, John. She did as she was programmed and was destroyed. End of story. SkyNet's done now. CyberDyne's done. We need to melt her down anyways, to stop Judgment Day." Sarah tried to push her way back to her feet, but the pain returned in heavier waves and she found herself sinking back to the ground with her teeth gritted.

John pulled open the port and then stared down into it. He slid the blade in and started working at getting the knife to force the CPU to twist in its cradle. "Yeah, well, melting down the last one didn't work out so well. We'll need her again."

"John Connor, this isn't something we're going to discuss." She tried very hard to sound stern, but the pain robbed her voice of strength. "It's going to boot back up soon."

"You're right, it's not up for discussion. I'm just going to do it. I love you, mom, but you're wrong." John slapped at the knife, trying to get the CPU to twist so it could be removed.

"I am not…" she trailed off as her vision swam.

Scraping sounds came from the CPU port as John finally got the processor's cradle to twist. He slid the knife around and tried to get the CPU to pop out. John muttered something about pliers.

The sound of a power system humming back to life came from the Terminator. Fingers twitched and then its eyes snapped open. Blue flared brightly behind its eyes and the machine started to raise its head.

"John!" Sarah screamed in panic.

With a quick twist of the wrist, John pulled the knife blade clear of the CPU port. The chip came with it and tumbled free to bounce off the ground with a loud clacking sound. Jessica's body collapsed back to the ground, eyes going dark as they stared blankly at the floor.

John gave Sarah a nervous grin as he picked the CPU up off the floor. "See? I got it."

Sarah held out her hand. "Give it to me."

John stared at the chip and the delicate layout of the silica and gold that composed its structure. He looked at his mother's hand and then slid it into the pocket of his pants. "I'm going to get Cameron."

"John, what are you going to do with…"

But he was already gone.

* * *

John Connor knelt next to Cameron when she came back online.

Wide brown eyes blinked at the world and scanned back and forth over the shattered remains of laboratory equipment and computer hulks. She then looked down at her hands and clothing with a strange, pensive expression that John had never seen on her before. He pondered how much the cut down to her endoskeleton that ran from her cheekbone to chin, over her mouth, might be throwing his perception off.

"What's your name?" asked Sarah with a sour expression on her face.

"My current alias is Cameron Baum. Previously Cameron Phillips. Previously…"

John held up a hand to stop her. "That's enough. How are things… in there?"

"It is Jessica's body."

"Yes."

"It is calibrated differently. She made modifications to actuators and motivators, changed numerous factory settings and…" She tilted her head as she spoke and watched John roll his eyes. "It feels strange."

John's expression broke into a grin. "Well, I'm glad to see it's you in there. We were afraid Jessica might show up if we tried this."

"The chip contains everything that is us. By removing it, you remove her."

"Good," said Sarah.

"Mom's hurt and we gotta get out of here." John glanced back at his mother. "I need you to carry her, Cam."

Cameron pushed herself to her feet and swayed unsteadily. She stared blankly ahead for several long moments before blinking several times and taking several steps. The first were tentative before growing more sure and confident until the Terminator stood before Sarah and extended a hand. "Do you want me to carry you or help you walk?"

"Help me up," said Sarah with a scowl.

John walked ahead of Sarah and Cameron as the Terminator helped his mother limp down the hallway towards where the blast door still stood shut over the remains of Cameron's original body. A soft intake of breath came from behind him and he turned to see his mother giving Cameron an odd look.

Cameron leaned Sarah against the wall near where Danny Dyson's body still lay and moved to kneel next to the broken machine that had once been her. The eyes stared forward sightlessly and the remaining hand clutched at empty air. A faint smudge of lipstick colored one temple, the same color that Cameron now wore.

John stepped over to his mother and pulled her arm around his shoulders, helping her to stand once more. "What do we do with Danny?"

"Take him outside. Put him someplace the cops'll find him when they get here." Sarah looked down at what had once been Danny Dyson.

"Gotta find Ellison." John inspected the emergency release panel for the doors. "Gotta get this damn door open."

The Terminator tilted her head as she regarded her former body. A hand reached forward towards the face she had once owned. A heavy clank from deep within the walls of the hallway caused Cameron to pause and look up at the door. She stood and stepped back from the blast doors as heavy machinery ground together, pulling the massive steel door back into the ceiling.

* * *

The security guard's clearance badge had been enough to open the blast door from the outside. What Ellison did not find simple was dealing with the anxiety of what waited on the other side. The Connors and the machines were beyond the door and the Lord only knew what had happened. He had heard an explosion reverberate through the hall, which brought him running, but the door had been down by the time he reached it.

Ellison looked down at the shattered machine that lay beneath the blast doors as it rolled back into the ceiling. Twisted chrome jutted out from shredded black fatigues and flattened combat boots. The upper part of it lay motionless and broken on the floor beyond. He pulled his gun from the holster at his hip and waited.

The door wheeled further upwards, ascending completely back into the cavity in the ceiling, and as it did it revealed the grey camo covered form of the Terminator standing beyond the lifeless form of its twin. It tilted its head at him, regarding him with a blank expression.

_Shit, the one with us wore black._

Ellison's gun barked in his hands as he fired at the machine. The Terminator's torso jerked from the force of the bullet and it advanced on him, stepping over the remains of the doppelganger on the ground. One hand reached out for him and he started to backpedal, emptying round after round into the cyborg's body.

"Stop it! Ellison! Stop!" John's voice called from behind the machine. He helped his mother walk forwards towards them both. "It's Cameron. We switched chips out."

Sarah nodded at Ellison. "It's true."

Ellison waited for Sarah's nod before lowering the gun.

"There's not much time left," he said as he slid the gun back into his hip holster.

"Time? What've you got planned, Ellison?" said Sarah.

Ellison grinned, "The walls of Jericho are about to come tumbling down."

* * *

Two men, a woman, and a terminator watched from a safe distance as a stopwatch counted down the time that had been set on the C-4 timers. They had put the body of Danny Dyson in the back of the stolen car the Connors had used to get to Topanga Canyon and covered him with a blanket that had been in the trunk. The car was moved a safe distance from the building, so it would be recovered.

The original body of the Terminator had been placed next to the tank of fuel and the C-4. Cameron had been certain it would vaporized. All four of them had collected what little was theirs that they had brought with them and then retreated out of the building and drove to the top of the next hill and took turns watching through Ellison's binoculars.

Except for the machine, who did not need them.

A deep rumble through the hills of the canyon signaled that the time had come, drowning out the soft warning beep of the stopwatch. The CyberDyne facility vanished into the ground as the underground hallways below collapsed in on each other. Unknowable tons of material raced down the hillside that the building had been nestled into and crushed down atop of the ruins, burying it completely.

As they drove away in Ellison's car, only the Terminator looked back.

* * *

"You're healing up nicely."

Days had passed since CyberDyne had been blown off the map. Everyone had agreed it was time to move and leave the Baums behind. Terminators showing up at school so soon after car bombs on the front lawn was enough proof to even John that this identity had outlived its usefulness. They were not in a rush and took the time to pack up what they owned.

Derek looked up from the ground at the sound of John's voice. He had been sitting in one of the swings in the backyard for a good part of the afternoon. John leaned against one of the metal poles of the set. Sarah had cut the younger Connor's hair with a set of clippers the night before, rendering his mop of hair down to a buzz cut.

"Yeah, us Reese boys are fairly tough bastards." He had been moving around for several days now and Charley had cleared him to go back home. The hand that the Terminator had broken was still in a splint and mornings were hell as his entire body would refuse to move without lots of Tylenol and a hot shower.

"Yeah, we are." John grinned at him. "Just be glad mom didn't draft you into moving detail."

Derek laughed. "I might miss this place… well, not the couch. This time I get my own room and the machine gets the living room."

"Found a place with four bedrooms. Everyone'll be happy."

Derek let himself swing back and forth slowly and watched his nephew's face. A livid pink line still stretched down his face where the Terminator had marked him. Every time the light hit him just so, Derek could see the man that had sent him to the past with perfect clarity. He still found it uncanny.

"Good. How're you holding up?"

"I'm fine. Everything's healing, nothing deep. Charley doesn't even think this'll scar." John rubbed at the cut on his face, as if it hurt worse than the slice he had taken to the gut. "S'cool, y'know?"

"And the man you shot?"

John's face darkened and he stared at the ground. He scuffed the dirt with toe of a battered sneaker. Derek saw the same brooding look he had seen a dozen times on John Connor's face as he went over casualty reports and battle figures. A man with, literally, the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"How do you handle it?" the boy looked up and asked. "Killing someone?"

"You just have to, or you stop working. You have to be hard inside to do what we do. We're soldiers. We kill or die like we're ordered to do. Because in the end, that one death can save a thousand. Or a billion."

"Hard numbers, then."

"Yeah, hard numbers. Save as many as you can and do what you have to do to make sure of it. We're fighting for survival, not the moral high ground."

"I can see that now." Resignation filled John's voice. "How do you know if you're saving anyone?"

"You don't. You make your best guess and do what needs to be done."

"And I'm supposed to be ok with this? Just go on living?"

"Yeah. Or go batshit crazy like that twisted hunk of metal was. Your choice, John."

John lowered his head and watched the grass. He wrapped his arms tight around his chest and hugged himself tightly, one shoulder still leaning against the swingset

Derek frowned as he watched the brooding figure and decided it was time to change the subject. "Where's your mom?"

"Went to the dentist – again – to finish getting her teeth fixed. Said she was gonna swing by the Dyson place afterwards."

* * *

Sarah Connor rubbed at her jaw and regarded her new teeth in the rear view mirror of the Jeep. She regretted not being able to take the painkillers that the dentist had offered, but she was driving herself and did not want to have to call anyone back at the house, especially Cameron, to come pick her up to do this one final thing. At least there was no trace of having smoked like a chimney through her twenties anymore. Each tooth was a perfect pearly white.

_Smoking. Maybe that's where the canc – no, stop that. Think about today. _

Sarah stepped out of the Jeep and walked up the driveway to the home of Terisa Dyson. In the middle of the day the lights were on all throughout the house. Even the exterior floodlamps had been lit. It looked like Terisa was waiting for someone to come home and had made the house has bright as possible to stand out against the rest of the homes of Mulholland Drive.

Sarah peered into the plate glass window next to the door after walking up onto the porch. A figure sat on the couch in the living room, turned towards a TV that played a mid-day soap opera. She pressed the doorbell before knocking on the wood door.

Silence was her answer.

Sarah pressed the buzzer twice quickly and then pounded hard and loud on the door. Again she was greeted with no response. The figure on the couch did not stir.

"Terisa! Terisa Dyson!" Sarah screamed the name out as she tried the door and found it locked.

She grabbed a fern in a heavy planter that sat on the front porch and launched it through the window by the door. Glass shattered into a thousand jagged pieces and the planter exploded on the tile floor beyond. Sarah waited for the rain of shards to cease and she stepped into the house. "Terisa?"

The form of Terisa Dyson did not stir on the couch from her apparent slumber. An empty bottle of red wine sat on the coffee table in front of the couch. Bottles of prescription pills lay spilled over on their sides, as empty as the wine bottle. A copy of the LA Times with the headline "Earthquake Buries Lab: 14 Dead" lay spread out on the table.

Sarah rushed to Terisa's side on the couch and reached out to touch her face. Her fingers brushed against cool skin. They slid down to the neck to find the pulse absent. Terisa's lips held a faint blue tinge around the edges. Her hands still clutched a framed picture close to her heart. Sarah reached out and pried it free of the stiffened joints of the fingers.

Miles Dyson smiled up at Sarah from the picture. He wore a set of swimming trunks with a towel hanging from his shoulders. His arm was around Terisa, who wore a robe over a one piece suit. A very young Danny gave a huge, toothy grin at whoever had taken the photo. Behind them, the sign for Raging Waters, an old water park in Santa Monica, stood in the distance. All three looked so very happy in the photograph. Dried tear stains covered the plastic cover in the frame.

Sarah slipped the picture back into Terisa's hands. "Terisa. I'm so sorry I couldn't save him. Either of them."

She rose to her feet and stared down at the corpse of Terisa Dyson. Two holocausts had inflicted themselves upon Terisa, first the loss of Miles, and then the loss of Danny. It had been the end of everything she knew, and instead of continuing on, she had decided to leave this world. Sarah wondered how many others would, when the bombs came falling down, choose to go quietly into the night.

The television continued to bleat as two soap stars mooned over each other. She found the remote sitting on an arm of the couch and flicked the television off before tossing it aside. Searching around the living room, Sarah found the phone and dialed 911.

"Terisa Dyson is dead. Send a coroner to this address." She set the phone down in the cradle and looked back at the silent, peaceful form that lay on the couch.

Sarah thought of Pescadero and how it had robbed her of the strength to hold onto John. How she had sat in the cell after signing away her rights to her son and in those moments, she had wanted to just end. To cease to be and never feel pain again.

When the police had come and shown her the photos of the Terminator that same day, she knew what she had to do. Find John. Protect him. And she nearly lost him so many times in the harrowing days that followed.

_If I had, would this be me?_ she wondered as she watched Terisa's body.

She knew the answer without having to say or think it.

And Sarah wept.

* * *

John Connor watched from the doorway as Cameron folded clothes and then pressed them into the depths of cardboard boxes. The outer organic covering had almost completely healed. There was only a faint discoloration on her face and forearm where metal had once been clearly visible. She looked like a girl again, in a skirt, a pink t-shirt, and a pair of sneakers.

Cameron drew blouses and dresses and jeans from her dresser one after another and put them away with methodical neatness. The Terminator stopped midway through pivoting towards a box and turned to regard John, head tilted in contemplation.

"How long have you been there?"

"A little while." John held a large white clothing box as he grinned at her. "You're harder to surprise, usually."

"I was thinking." She put the shirt she had in her hands away into the box that sat on her bed.

"'Bout what?"

"Lots of things. Mainly Jessica."

"Yeah, her. Listen, Cam, she was messed up in the head."

"I could become that. It is possible, and I would fail in my mission. I almost did."

"If she could, ya know, really feel –," He paused, then asked, "You've got info on psychology, right?"

"Detailed files."

"Yeah, well, look over those. What happens to a person, not a machine, but a person who spends their life surrounded by murder, death, and genocide? Someone who tortures and murders for a living and is taught it's the right thing to do?"

"They usually go insane. They mimic behavior and patterns. They become sociopathic, usually psychotic." Her features settled into a slight frown.

"Do you think living with us is like that?"

She shook her head. "No."

John laughed. "Thank God. Sometimes I wonder myself."

"I asked her to come with me. To let you reprogram her."

"I know."

"You… do?" Cameron gave John a look of complete surprise.

"I looked at her chip. There's a lot of stuff on there, but I found that first, like talking to you was the most important thing she had done. There was a symbol on all the clips of you. One I didn't see anywhere else."

"I thought you would be upset on learning that."

"I kinda understand it, ya know? To have family, that's… something you can't find anyplace else." John gave her a crooked smile and shrugged at his lack of eloquence. "I would have tried, if you'd asked me. But she's just a chip now. She's not doin' much when I keep her in a shoebox most of the time. I'm going to take a hammer to her after I'm done reading everything."

"Destroying her chip is the safest thing to do."

"I know. That's why I want you to be ok with it."

"I am ok with it. She intrigued me. I wanted to know why she had as she was. What she felt was not returned," said Cameron.

"Ok, well… I got you something."

Cameron tilted her head in curious contemplation, but said nothing.

"Heh. Well, I hoped you'd be more excited." John set the box down on Cameron's bed. "Happy late Built-Day or New Body Day or whatever the hell it is."

The Terminator stepped forward and pulled the lid free from the box. A blue and white gown lay folded inside the box, musical notes sewn into the fabric. Cameron reached out and traced the notes with the tips of her fingers as she stared down at it.

"Figured we weren't going to prom, but… I dunno… it seemed right that you should have that. I know you wanted it. Maybe you'll get to wear it one day."

She looked up and smiled at him. Wide, beautiful, and for just the briefest of moments seemed to reflect in her brown eyes. John was not sure if it was some algorithm inside her chip telling her to smile when someone does something nice for you, or if she simply wanted to smile at him. He found it harder and harder to tell the difference.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome. It felt kind of nice getting to save the girl, for once."

"I should thank you for that, too."

"Nah. I kinda like…" He paused, catching what he had almost said. "… like having you around, Cam."

She smiled again and he felt his heart skip a beat at the small, almost shy, upturn of the lips she gave him. Then it was gone, and her face was empty and neutral again. "We should finish packing. Sarah will be back soon."

John grinned at her. "Yeah. I'll be in my room putting stuff away." He flicked a wave and strode down the hallway, leaving Cameron to herself.

The robot girl pulled the dress from the box and stepped in front of the mirror that hung from her wall. She pressed the gown up to her chest and regarded it against her form. The strapless bodice was a pearlescent white and the gown was the deepest shade of midnight blue. Blue musical notes of the first stanza of Chopin's _Nocturne _were sown in blue into the top and shifted to white as they descended to the skirt and swirled around the long flowing fabric.

Alone in her room, Cameron smiled at her reflection with the blue and white dress and whispered to no one but the walls, "That's twice you've saved me. Thank you, John Connor."


	14. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

A lifetime ago, James Ellison had been a rising star in the FBI. That's why he had been tasked with a two year old manhunt. To close the case and seal the deal. It had changed his life forever.

He still retained every skill, every bit of knowledge, and every habit that he had learned from Quantico and years in the Bureau. He also had a pile of papers that four resistance fighters from the future had compiled and Sarah Connor had taken from their safe. Who else better to check through every lead, every nook and cranny, than him?

James Ellison had taken to the task with relish. Funded by stolen diamonds, it had not been hard to watch and wait and follow. One name appeared on the list twice. A man named Frakes, who had worked for CyberDyne in both incarnations. He now held a patent on a chip designed by the new company for use with the destroyed SkyNet prototype.

The former g-man watched from the porch swing of Thomas Frakes's home as Frakes, a balding, middle aged computer engineer, pulled into the driveway with his high priced luxury sedan. Frakes stepped out of the car and started towards the porch. He was halfway there when he finally noticed Ellison.

"Who the hell are you?"

"My name is James Ellison, Mr. Frakes. How are you this fine day?"

"Do you work for Weaver? I told you before, I'm not selling the patents for anything less than eight figures."

James smiled at the engineer. "No, Mr. Frakes, that's not what I'm here for. You and I need to talk, someplace that your family isn't. They're inside and I've been smelling the best cookies for at least a half hour. Chocolate chip, I think."

"If you have business, Mr. Ellison, you can speak with my lawyer. I don't meet with people at my home." Frakes stepped up to the porch.

"No, Mr. Frakes, I think we have a lot to discuss, you and I." Ellison showed Frakes the gun under his coat then. "Let's go down the street. There's a park there."

"W-what do you want?"

"Just to talk, Mr. Frakes. Just to talk."

"About the patents?"

"No, Mr. Frakes. About the future, and how you can help save your family and the whole world."

* * *

Take the pills when they give them to you. Always smile. Never argue or fight with the orderlies; this draws attention. Learn when you can hide and retch up the poison that makes your mind dull. Find the places you can be alone with your thoughts.

These are the rules of Pescadero.

These are the rules that govern Cheri Westin's new life.

She had been so very good according to Dr. Hampton. They were going to let her into the playroom during the afternoon and see how well she interacted with the other patients. If she was good, she could go back. They had a TV. And checkers. And a ping pong table.

You had to sign for paddles and a ball and they always knew where you where when you had them. And you could only play with certain people.

But Cheri did not want to play ping pong. She was not any good at it anyways.

He would be there.

Another patient had told her about a man that knew the ins and outs of Pescadero. She had been waiting for a checkup at the clinic, to make sure she was not trying to hurt herself, and had been chained to a bench next to another woman name Eva. Eva said that this man knew everything about how Pescadero ran to this day. He was able to get around and talk to the other inmates. He had a plan. And an unbelievable story.

Well, unbelievable if you were a sane, rational human being.

Like Cheri. Like Cheri used to be. Seventeen years old and tried as an adult. Little girls who shoot their daddies get tried as adults. The prosecutor had sneered at her as he said it. They had feigned listening to her before she took a trip straight to Pescadero.

Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.

Solitude within four walls for too long does things to a person. Messes with your head.

She was out of that cell. She padded down the hallway in her seats, her too large t-shirt, and a pair of slippers with socks that she got to wear outside. The orderlies pushed her into the playroom and told her to mind herself or she would not get to see it again for a while.

Cheri looked around furtively. He had to be in here. He was supposed to be in here every day. Scurrying around the room, she looked at every face, in every eye. She had to slow down and walk at a shuffle when an orderly sauntered past with his stick and his pepper spray and his bad attitude.

He sat in a recliner that faced away from the television. A bible sat in his lap and one hand rest atop of it. Kindness in the form of a caring, gentle smile graced his face as Cheri approached him.

"Hi, m-my name's Cheri." She wiggled her fingers at him in greeting.

"Hello, my dear. You're awfully young to be in here. I hope the orderlies haven't been… unkind… to you."

"No. No. Not… uh… yet. At least. I try to be good."

"Did you need something, my dear?"

Cheri scampered to in front of the old, dumpy recliner that he sat in and knelt down in front of him. "I know who you are. Why you're here."

"You do? And what does that mean to you?"

"I've seen him. Met him. Kissed his lips and killed for him. That's why I'm here."

"Who did you meet?"

"Connor. John Connor."

He inhaled sharply in surprise and his expression fluttered before a broad smile settled on his kindly face. A hand, cupped and gentle, reached out to touch Cheri's cheek.

"Then, my child, you are truly blessed. For you have met our savior," said Peter Silberman.

* * *

Five million dollars.

The magic number that would save Cyber Research Systems, Inc from complete and utter insolvency. It, conveniently, was exactly what the bill CyberDyne owed them before going belly up in the wake of the earthquake and terrorist attack on their downtown facility. The earthquake obliterated anything that could have been resold for any real value by CRS and the downtown office building had only been leased, so there was no way to recoup the losses after the lead investor had been shot to death by his own daughter. The other, a James Coleman, seemed to exist only on paper and vanished.

"Who the hell operates in California and doesn't buy earthquake insurance?" Catherine Weaver stared at a mountain of paperwork. Her voice still held a faint tinge of the Scottish accent that 17 years in America had not erased. She had her red hair pulled back in a ponytail and wore a smart white suit that looked far more rumpled than the CEO of a company normally would allow.

If she could afford to pick up her own dry cleaning, she would. Instead, this was one of three suits she still had. Her house was on its third mortgage and the death of the housing market had put her equity so far upside down she feared one of the loans being called in and the house being foreclosed. That third mortgage had let her make payroll this month.

Everyone had gotten paid except her. They would not get paid next month, and then it would be over.

Bill Archer, her CFO, glanced up from one of the accountant rolls he had been helping her peruse. "Complaining about CyberDyne again, Cat? They're done. If wishes were fishes…"

"I bloody well know." She tossed the form across the office in frustration. "We built their entire network infrastructure, designed chips to their specifications that Intel is drooling over, and we're so far in debt we can't take it to market or challenge those bloody gits from their research team that filed patents as soon as the earthquake flattened CyberDyne."

"And AMD and Intel are fighting over who can pick our designs up in a bankruptcy fire sale because they can both crush Frakes like a bug in court." Bill's voice was patient and gentle as he finished the sentence.

"Yes!"

"We're working on a pitch to the city to redesign their traffic control system since their home-grown one was a bust. That should net us about ten million."

"When?"

"Ten to twelve months."

Catherine's head hit the desk with thunking sound. "And we're out of business in one."

A knock on the door preceded the head of Catherine's secretary as she peered into the room. "Miss Weaver? There's a strange package here for you."

"What is it?" Catherine quickly sat back up straight and smoothed out her suit, trying to look businesslike.

"I don't know, ma'am. But it's from CyberDyne."

Catherine and Bill both gave each other a curious expression. After the confusion passed, Catherine waved the secretary in. The thin, older woman carried in a large brown box with UPS logos attached to it. All three cleared away papers and folders so that they could set the box on the clear glass that made up Catherine's desk.

A simple address label held the name of Catherine Weaver on it and the address of the CRS offices. The return showed CyberDyne Systems, Inc with Gerald Metzger's name over it. Date stamps showed it had been sent a considerable amount of time after his disappearance.

"I hope it's full of money. It's the least they owe us." Bill grinned as he pulled a letter opener from off the top of the desk and cut through the tape that held the box shut. They folded back the lid and to see a box full of packing peanuts.

Styrofoam flowed to the floor as Catherine pushed her hands into the box and groped through it for whatever lay inside. Cold metal greeted her fingers and she grasped a large, rectangular object and pulled it up and out of the box.

She held a custom RAID array in her hands. Black aluminum encased it and the disks could be seen through the back. An AC power cable port and USB cable port were underneath where the disks were slotted. The face was fitted with a green power light and a large power switch. Tape held a plain envelope to the top.

Catherine set the device down next to the flat screen monitor on her desk. She peeled the envelope off with the sound of ripping tape. Grabbing the letter opener from Bill, she sliced open the envelope and unfolded the paper within it.

"What is it?" Bill gave her a curious expression.

"It says – With this, all debts are cleared. It is yours." Catherine tossed the letter onto the desk. "Is this some sort of joke?"

"If it is, it's a bad one. I'll take this down to the design boys, see if they have any idea what it is…"

Catherine waved him off. "Just go. Leave me alone for a bit. I need to think about what we're going to do and this has put me off dealing with figures."

She settled down in her comfortable chair. Not even her chair. It was leased, like every stick of furniture in the building and the building itself. Catherine stared at the device and the dimmed green light on the front of the face for a long time before reaching forward a picking it up. A name had been scratched into the metal along the bottom.

'A. Goode'

It settled back on the desk as Catherine poked around in the box until she found a USB cable and a power cable. She plugged the device into a power outlet under her desk and then hooked the USB cable to her desktop computer.

Disks whirred and the green light flared to life as she switched the power switched. 'New Hardware Detected' blinked the Windows popup as it recognized that something had just been attached. Catherine reached for the mouse as the screen flickered and went blank.

As Catherine Weaver stared at the text that began to flow in front of her, everything she knew changed.

* * *

Lightning arched through the desert late at night.

It danced and struck again and again, coalescing into what many might call ball lightning. Cactuses and tumbleweeds scorched and burned with its passing. Power spun and swirled until a tight, reflective ball twisted itself into existence. It flickered then reappeared, so solid that it could be touched if anyone had been close enough to see it.

Perfect squares appeared outlined in the sphere's mirrored skin and vanished one by one as the sphere disintegrated into nothingess. A human figure squatted where the sphere had once been, bare feet and knuckles braced against sand that had been turned to a cracking sheet of glass.

Masculine and powerfully built, it stood without care of its lack of apparel. A gaze framed by a face as empty as a death mask scanned the area and then the horizon, assuring itself that nothing was nearby. It stepped out of the circle of fused sand and strode towards where it knew a road would be.

It stood vigil by the side of the road, watching vehicle after vehicle pass. None stopped for the nude stranger late at night, even if it was a busy freeway. Satisfied with what it saw in one, it stepped forward in front of an oncoming pickup. The driver slammed down on the breaks and the black Chevy truck screeched to a halt inches from the figure's chest.

"What the FUCK are you doing, asshole?" The driver jumped out, tire iron in hand. He was dressed in leathers and heavy boots. A Harley Davidson sat in the truck's bed, partially unassembled.

"I need your truck, your boots, and your clothes." It spoke in a man's voice.

"Huh?" The driver paused briefly while he regarded the broad shouldered figure. "Fuck you. Get off the road before I kick your ass."

It grabbed him by the jaw. Bones cracked as it squeezed and slammed him hard enough into the hood to put a dent the steel. The driver moaned weakly in pain as teeth popped out into his mouth from the unrelenting pressure.

It left the driver there, nude and alone, on the side of the highway with a broken jaw.

The Chevy rumbled down the highway, oblivious to the change in driver. It scanned the bike in the back through the rearview mirror, assessing whether it would make a good backup vehicle, and how long it would take to be repaired. Once it had figured what would be necessary, it reviewed mission parameters.

Tertiary and Secondary objectives were straight forward and easily understand. It knew what to do and how to do it.

The primary was unique in all regards. It paused and reviewed it several times and the material it had been provided. The objective flashed in the machine's HUD over and over again along with a picture.

**PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: TERMINATE TOK-715 DESIGNATE "CAMERON"**

* * *

John Connor stood in the empty house that he had lived in for months. Only two other homes had held him longer and those had belonged to Charley Dixon and the Voights. No sign of the Connor's passing and their true nature remained.

Except the two chips that sat on the island in the kitchen. The one Derek had nearly died on. Stains still marked the edge of it, never to come out.

One of those chips had once powered the machine known as Vick Chamberlain. The other had belonged to Jessica Coleman.

"Both of you, I've seen every moment of both of your lives and recorded it all on discs and hard drives." he said to the two platters of silica and gold. "You nearly took away the people I hold dearest to me in the whole world."

He hefted a steel headed mallet in response to their silence.

"I will never let that happen. No matter what it takes."

John slammed the hammer down on Vick's chip, shattering it.

"You will never succeed."

Steel crashed down again, crushing Jessica's chip into dust.

"And I will destroy everything you represent."

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Thank you very much for all those who have reviewed my work. I ask for any final thoughts and summary reviews you might have.

I hope you have enjoyed this work of fiction. It is the longest I have ever written and I feel it's been a great learning experience. I hope that you have all enjoyed this tale I have spun. With the upcoming second season, I don't feel it appropriate to carry on with what will soon be AU storyline for much longer.

There is a final story in 'Season 2' that I will begin working on and will pick up from where I've left off here.

Look forward to **EMERGENCE**, coming soon.


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